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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733223">Spin Into The Sunrise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettymuchreddie/pseuds/prettymuchreddie'>prettymuchreddie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affinity, Eddie Kaspbrak is not an uwu soft boy, Fanfic, Fluffy, IT2017, M/M, Reddie, Richie Tozier is like the only loser with decent parents, Richie tozier is not an edgelord, Romance, Spaghetti, eddieneverdies, fanon reddie sucks, highschoolAU, nosmut, ok so maybe Richie’s parents aren’t fully decent but they’re trying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:53:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettymuchreddie/pseuds/prettymuchreddie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And they were back. But that was fine too. Anywhere with Richie was a mini cloud-paradise in itself, where the tornado wasn't quite so suffocating.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 01- Promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somehow this was worse.</p><p>It had been bad before— thrashing, shaking, sobbing with no recollection of what was actually happening— but this was intolerable. It was intolerable because now he felt it. He remembered it. He cried over it and knew he was crying over it. It was official: nightmares were worse when you were awake. He felt so pathetic, eyes screwed shut like that would help, all lights on in his room at three in the morning, curtains drawn closed and closet doors shut, not permitting any darkness in the dim room, silent tears streaming down his face, mouth covered with a violently trembling hand so as to not wake his sleeping mother (who, by the way, had no idea at all of her son's terrorized state). He had just now noticed how reliant his lights were on the sunlight to give them an extra boost so that they could even be considered as functional lights.</p><p>Eddie Kaspbrak was terrified. And alone. And helpless. Of course, he was lucky he had working lights (just barely) because it would obviously be ten times worse in the complete dark, however it was still bad because the monsters lived in his mind. He could still see them in the light, if anything they were clearer than ever, they were there in every shadow, every corner, waiting to pounce every time he closed his eyes to blink.</p><p>Monsters. The dark. What childish things to be terrified of at age fifteen, who could be scared of those things and still act like a normal teenager the next day? It was humiliating, if nothing else. Spending night after night sleeping maybe two hours (if he was lucky) in complete light and spending every waking moment after dusk and before dawn with streaks down his face from dried tears and red splotches around his eyes, wrapped like chicken in a burrito, hidden under as many blankets as he could fit around him. Though he didn't have time to consciously feel stupid— being terrified and hopeless was surprisingly time consuming— there was definitely going to be a stinging feeling in the morning when the fear was gone and he was just left with the fact that he was fifteen and slept with all the lights on.</p><p>The nightmares were different each time, but they all had one basic premise: Eddie was alone. Utterly alone. Not in the sense that there was no one around, there were plenty of people around, but none of them noticed him. They didn't even bother glancing his way, not while he was slowly suffocating to death, not when he was dead. What was so scary about the nightmares was that they were so close to real life. He had one friend, that friend wasn't even a best friend, he was just someone who happened to sit with Eddie at lunch and talk to him in the halls, something he was grateful for as hardly anyone else ever spared him a hello.</p><p>Bill. Bill Denbrough was a saint, the only person in the school (maybe even the world) that would tolerate Eddie and his pathetic sleepless nights, his late night phone calls when he was freaking out because his lights had gone out, or maybe something was coming from the window. Literally anyone else would laugh, call him a wimp or a baby, but not Bill. The two of them had bonded when Bill's brother Georgie had gone missing sometime in the middle of freshman year and everyone was much too awkward to talk to him, for whatever reason they found each other, two outcasts just trying to make it through high school alive. Bill was grateful that Eddie didn't humor him with all the generic 'oh my god, I'm so sorry' or 'you must be distraught' or 'how's your family doing?' bullshit. Eddie was grateful that Bill didn't ask about Eddie's home life, he was there for a laugh and some light conversation and that was it. Perfect. What Bill had started asking, however, was how Eddie had slept the previous night, a question the latter didn't particularly mind, it was nice to know someone cared. The thought of seeing someone who cared the next day was what kept Eddie breathing throughout the night (obviously with help from his inhaler), it was a comforting thought that Eddie found he often had to refer back to when the monsters got too loud.</p><p>But even that thought didn't keep his other ones quiet for long. It was embarrassing, infuriating, to sit there and know that nothing worked. His mother didn't know, and she never would, his room was the little bit of freedom from her that he actually had, his little bubble of tranquility (during the day, anyway), and if she knew that her 'precious baby boy' was having nightmares that took sleep away from him that was sure to be stripped from him like every other thing that most normal kids got to have— i.e. sleepovers, after school hangouts, lunch that was bought in the lunch line and not meticulously packed, a bike, the ability to do clubs or extracurricular activities— if he told his mother, next thing he knew he'd be sleeping on an air mattress in her room, the woman undoubtedly hovering over the teen while he tried to pretend to sleep.</p><p>So there he was. His whole body shaking violently, sobs racking through him, his breath dwindling to a struggling wheeze, the white-knuckled grip he kept on his inhaler the entire night wasn't getting any looser, the plastic savior was held only centimeters away from his mouth in case his breath stopped coming completely. That happened too many times to be considered 'bad asthma'. No. That was 'deadly asthma' or 'the bane of Eddie Kaspbrak's existence'. Nothing meant anything to Eddie as much as his inhaler, friends (well, just one, really) were nice, his medicine 'saved him' or something, yeah, but the only thing that actually ever gave him instant relief whenever he needed it was his inhaler. </p><p>It tasted like shit, more specifically battery acid, but Eddie had grown addicted to its taste, a taste that would repulse most people but he couldn't get enough of it. Most times he didn't even need the puff of medicine that swept over him and cleared his dysfunctional lungs when he pleased, but he took it anyway because people already thought he was a freaky weirdo, why not be the freaky weirdo who can also calm down (mostly) in an instant. It obviously didn't work too well— the good, prescribed stuff was fucking expensive, so drug store, over-the-counter stuff had to do— but the fact that it was something anyone could buy at any time and twelve bucks a pop meant Eddie could puff it at any given time, any time he wanted to, really. His inhaler and the good it actually did him were not related, not in the slightest, everything that hunk of plastic did for him was almost entirely mental, it was just the sensation of the cold medicine stinging his mouth that cleared his lungs and throat, the pure idea of tensing up as he pushed his finger over the scratched metal button soothed most of his troubles all by itself. </p><p>Though most people, including his pharmacist, insisted that his conditions were purely mental, there was only one person that he'd ever trust with his medical issues: Sonia Kaspbrak. His overprotective mother that he feared very much, and resented just a little, but trusted her to know what was wrong with her son as if his life depended on it. It probably did. For if his mother wasn't there to inform the doctors that they were wrong, and stupid, and selfish for even entertaining the idea that Eddie was a perfectly healthy kid, and that there actually was many, many things wrong with her son, where would he be? Dead, probably.</p><p>It turned four AM. With a newfound sense of guilt for resenting his mother, who was only trying to help him, he found yet another reason to cry. He was a monster, definitely worse than the ones haunting him every night. What was wrong with him?</p><p>The last few hours of the night before sunrise took its toll and chased the shadows away were always the longest, the most painful, they were the hours where everything seemed more eerie than usual: Eddie's flickering desk lamp, the occasional drafts of wind that whined through his air vent, the soft shuffling of his curtains against the carpeted floor when the air hit them just right. This was the time where Eddie got a hold of himself, the monsters retreated into the shadows and just scoured over him from afar, he loosened his death grip on his well-loved inhaler and he tried to fall asleep. Sometimes he did, those were the fortunate times when he got at least two hours of sleep before sunrise, when he jumped up from his bed and sat at his windowsill to watch the world come alive, as per comforting routine. But the other times, maybe seventy percent of the time, he was wide awake, tired out of his wits and especially jumpy— gasping and whipping his head around at every little sound that his old room made, feeling his heart leap out of his chest at every creak in the floorboards, every tick of his clock after fifteen minutes had passed since the previous tick— he trembled more than usual too, buried under million of blankets but still freezing cold.</p><p>He hated the world. Who could ever understand how he felt? Who was so lonely that they didn't sleep at night, that they had nightmares of people being around to save him, but no one taking the time to?</p><p>Richie was. He was the only one who understood, he was the best. But he'd been away for years with no reason why. It hurt more than anything to remember the conversation they'd had on Eddie's windowsill one morning, the morning Eddie's world crashed around him and everything fell apart. As much as his heart ached and longed to be talking to the one person who ever understood him like he needed someone to, the only person that would ever stop to save him if he was drowning in the oceanic cesspool that Eddie called his life, he could never stop thinking about him, not if he could help it. Richie was gone for good, he hadn't left a phone number, no address, no reason as to why he had to move. 'I'll be back soon, Eds, I swear. I wouldn't leave you.' he had said, no, sworn. </p><p>What bullshit. How cruel, giving Eddie that false hope of ever seeing his best friend again, his best friend that had kissed him out of nowhere when they were twelve on Richie's roof, jacket wrapped around both their freezing figures, but the two couldn't feel more warm inside. 'What's the big deal with first kisses anyway? I mean, not that I haven't kissed anyone, just ask your mom.' Eddie had slapped his arm with a fond smile. 'I hate whoever made kissing a cool thing to do, like, if you haven't done it then you're a freaky nerd or something.' Then they'd looked at each other. Just looked. No one dared move closer first, both their hearts were racing each other, apparently trying to find out whose could beat faster, no one dared even breathe, the moment seemed to last hours, and maybe it did. Then Richie leaned in and they kissed for what felt like another three hours.</p><p>They didn't speak of that after then, it was as if it never happened. 'Huh.' Richie had shrugged, face redder than the coming sunrise beaming light onto fall trees, illuminating the leaves' crimson glow. 'No biggie, right?' Right. No biggie. Except for the fact that Richie had just unknowingly stolen Eddie's heart for the rest of forever. It hurt to remember, to reminisce and get lost in the warm memory, it felt like a million cuts on his heart to think about, but he couldn't stop. It was comforting in a way, to touch his barren lips lightly and imagine instead of his trembling fingertips there were another pair of lips there, a cold, chapped-yet-soft, strangely familiar pair.</p><p>That was the most painful part of the two-or-so hours until sunrise. Thinking about Richie, Richie, Richie, the entire time. It was tiring and depressing and made him miss his ex best friend (not officially, but mostly) even more than he usually did. He was in love with someone he'd never see again in his whole pathetic life, he was stuck pining after someone who moved away, clearly wanting nothing to do with him, what Eddie had done wrong, he didn't actually know. He did know that it couldn't have been the kiss, Richie initiated that completely, he'd even brought up the subject, and no one would move to a different state just because of something as silly as that; he was hiding something. That was the conclusion Eddie seemed to reach every single night, every night since he left, no matter how much he overthought and pieced together every shattered fragment of their friendship, nothing else made sense.</p><p>Eddie hid nothing from Richie. Ever. Richie knew about his nightmares, his issues with his mom, how he felt about his medicine. Everything. Well, not everything, actually. Richie didn't know that Eddie was undeniably in love with him.</p><p>His nightly visions of Richie's tired, smiling, glasses-clad face gazing at him underneath a canvas of white dots and swirls of deep blue and black melted away along with the colors of midnight. He sighed and walked dreamily over to his window, as per his morning routine, he looked at the night colors melting away into a powerful heat, blends of warm purples and vibrant oranges and yellows. As the glowing orb that brought life to Eddie's sleepy neighborhood rose in the pastel sunrise, so did Eddie's fear and sorrow, lifting slowly out of him like the sun lifted blankets of shadows off the horizon.</p><p>How amazing it would be to share this view with someone that actually meant something to him. Someone being one Richie Tozier, the someone that Eddie missed more than anyone in the world. The love of his life and one person that he wasn't sure if he'd ever see again. 'I'll be back soon, Eds, I swear. I would never leave you.' When was it 'soon'? Would he have to wait another three years or another three minutes? He didn't know, and that was what troubled Eddie the most. He didn't know. He knew nothing, he didn't know where the hell Richie was, why he moved, when or if he was ever coming back, and scariest of all, if he was even alive.</p><p>God, he hoped Richie was alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 02- Concealer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every day started the same, and this one was no exception. Eddie pretended to wake up at seven, though he and everyone that knew him even a little bit (minus his mother, who technically didn't know a thing about him) knew he'd been up all night stuck in his own mind with no way out. He then waited in his room, standing expectantly at the window, waiting for his mother to leave for work from his room so that he never had to interact with her, not if he could help it. When he did actually talk to the monster that claimed to be his mother— which was rare but did happen from time to time— it always went the same, all technical, no emotion or connecting behind it. She loved taking care of him, making sure he was healthy as he could be, but she didn't love him. But that was fine, he wouldn't have it any other way, because the more she genuinely cared about him the more they had to talk, which comes back to how their conversations always went: 'Eddie, honey, you know, I read this article about...' whatever it was she was worried about this time, which was, most of the time, something ridiculous about the risks of walking alone to school, being home alone for more than half an hour, even the risks of eating breakfast cereal every morning. It was excruciating to listen to, and that was what led him to hide away in his room until his mom left for work in the morning.</p>
<p>After that, he'd always slip down the stairs slyly and sneak into his mother's bathroom. He didn't need to sneak, he could stomp around, banging and clanging against walls and pictures as he walked, after all, no one was home to see him, hear him or ask what the hell he was doing. He snuck because he was guilty, his mother had squished into his mind that makeup was for girls and any boy who wore it was disgusting and wrong, and even though it was necessary to wear concealer under his eyes if he wanted to pass as a normal (or, not completely sleepless) teen and not get asked a million questions about his nonexistent sleep schedule, he still felt dirty and wrong. He had gotten good at applying concealer to the point of it being near completely unnoticeable, the only one who ever made any comment was Bill, and that was solely when he had a spot of makeup that stood out from the rest. No words were even needed on those rare occasions, he'd just stop them while they were walking to school and examine his sleepy face, more often than not he'd just give a weak thumbs up and keep walking, Eddie following confidently with the knowledge that no one would know he was wearing makeup, but there were sometimes days where Bill's tongue would stick out the corner of his mouth as he focused on blending the spot softly with his thumb, meticulously making sure not to ruin Eddie's hard work, but rather improving it. Even then, Eddie would follow confidently, safe knowing that he looked alright.</p>
<p>He never ate breakfast, waiting in his room until his mom was gone took up all his time in the morning, so by the time he was downstairs and fully concealed, Bill was in front of his house waiting to walk together. It was sweet that Bill had his bike on him, something he had said to be his most prized possession, but still walked it beside him next to Eddie, refusing the urge to hop on and speed freely through the mostly deserted streets of Derry so the short teen wouldn't feel left out. There was no way Eddie's mom would ever let him get a bike. It was embarrassing at this point, he didn't even know the slightest thing about riding a bike, so getting one now would be public humiliation waiting to happen.</p>
<p>The routine went as planned with no interruptions, other than the slight tremor in his hand as he carefully blotted under his eyes with enough makeup to make him look normal, this was the result of thinking about Richie after sunrise when his thoughts became conscious and actually made sense, after sunrise was when the questions he started asking (where is he? Why did he move? What did he not tell me? Is he even alive?) began to make sense, his mind began to involuntarily formulate answers that, quite frankly, scared him. Scared him more than never even seeing Richie again.</p>
<p>Eddie gathered his thoughts and his things and sighed as he stood at his front door, mentally preparing himself for another day of grueling social interactions, another day of wanting to cry every time he was called on in class, another day of being bullied, being called 'wheezy' and 'girly-boy' and some awfully degrading slurs by Henry Bowers and Gretta Keene. He didn't know why he every expected anything different, this was just how the life of Eddie Kaspbrak went and he should be more than used to it by now, he wanted to just give in to the social hierarchy at school, accept his position as the weird, creepy kid in the back of the class with the one friend and the inhaler and the fanny pack and the short shorts, but that wasn't who he wanted to be. That was who his mother wanted him to be, all safe and cautious and hypochondriac-ish. He thought he'd look just fine in normal-length shorts or even jeans, but apparently his legs needed to 'breathe' or something.</p>
<p>He finally shook off the hatred for his stupid stereotype at school and opened the front door, like every morning Bill was standing there with a perfectly genuine smile on his face, something Eddie would never, ever get used to seeing. Another thing Sonia Kaspbrak had forced into Eddie's mind, he was nearly intolerable to hang out with. There was always something to fix with him, why else would he be getting new pills tossed onto his daily regimen like candy into a bag on Halloween? He thought six was enough, he was utterly convinced that six would be it for him, until his mom pointed out that he needed to lose weight, and she knew what was best for her boy, so there were another two. Time passed since that ordeal and Eddie now had thirteen pills to take daily. Ridiculous.</p>
<p>"Hey, Eh-Eddie." Bill waved meekly, then let his hand fall back down to his side in its awkward place, not quite in the pocket of his worn jeans but verging on being there, somewhere it seemed to be if he wasn't doing anything else. Eddie couldn't quite find the words within him to respond to his friend, so he just mustered a weak smile and stumbled down his steps. This was normal and Bill most certainly didn't take it to heart. "Any s-s-sleep?" A sheepish shake of his head was all Bill needed to know that last night was one of the nights where Eddie had been too trapped in his own mind to sleep even a wink. "Anything tuh-to talk about?" He asked, this was standard morning conversation, just Bill checking up on Eddie and making sure than anything the small teen wanted to be said was said before he gained a social filter— as he often did over the day— and stopped wanting to talk about anything to do with him at all.</p>
<p>"Maybe, actually." Bill looked at him with the utterance of this sentence, it was hardly ever that Eddie spoke to Bill about his nightly struggles. "I don't know, tonight wasn't like... nightmare bad, it was more thinking bad." Bill knew not to interrupt with the usual 'go on' or 'I'm listening' that most normal people would use during a conversation like this, as interruptions diminished Eddie's confidence and made him close the doors to his thoughts again. On cue, after confirming he wasn't keeping Bill from saying anything that he wanted to, Eddie continued. "I got to thinking more than usual. You know, about Richie and stuff, he swore he'd come back."</p>
<p>Bill nodded, him being one of the only people with the knowledge of Richie and Eddie's friendship, though even he didn't know about what had happened on the roof. No one knew about that except for Richie and Eddie, even though sometimes he questioned if Richie remembered it.</p>
<p>"Well he hasn't. We know this. But... oh god, I don't know..." He paused, whenever he spoke he spoke quickly and with a tone that could become extremely passionate or emotional, he spoke so quickly, in fact, that he hardly thought of how to explain his worries coherently. Everything he thought was coherent to him, so he didn't have to worry about that, however verbalizing his concerns was much more challenging. "Is he even alive? I mean think about it, he leaves, no reason why and no more than a one day warning. He gives me no address, no phone number, no nothing. He promises, no, this guy swears to be back soon. Well when the fuck is soon? Is it tomorrow? Is it five years from now?" He was on a tangent, no going back now, no control over his words. "I can't help but think if maybe he left because he was weirded out after w-" He paused abruptly.</p>
<p>"After you wh-what?" Eddie was silent. He just ruined everything. How would Bill be friends with him now? Knowing what he was. "Eddie?"</p>
<p>"After- um- after we had a fight. Yeah, a huge fight and we started swinging at each other which was wild and... yeah. It was pretty weird, the whole thing." Thank god for his ability to lie quickly. </p>
<p>"Right. Oh-okay."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>The rest of the walk was pretty much silent, Bill occasionally stopped to say hi to a passing neighbor, he seemed to know everyone around Derry and everyone seemed to know him, whether it was good kind of know or bad kind of know, everyone knew Bill Denbrough. Some (most) knew him as 'The Denbrough Kid. Which One? Oh Yeah! He Lost His Brother!', and the rest knew him as 'Stuttering Bill', an... affectionate nickname that the students and faculty of Derry High School used to refer to Bill, the students to his face and the teachers anywhere else.</p>
<p>Eddie wanted to talk more, he had a lot to say, but he couldn't afford to let anything slip. In Derry, that was how you got your ass beat, even by your closest friends. No one wanted to hear about an unspoken romance between two boys, it was nearly completely unheard of where they lived, and when it was heard of people made sure to voice their negative opinions, or express them physically.</p>
<p>As they approached the school, Bill leaned his unused bike against the bike racks, Eddie felt a twinge of guilt. Bill loved riding his bike, yet he put everything down and just walked it next to him all for Eddie. And then he did the same thing on the way home, something Eddie would not stop thinking about (among other things, of course).</p>
<p>"You know, you don't have to walk home with me today." He blurted out of guilt. "My mom's gonna pick me up for a doctor's appointment." It was believable enough, he did have frequent doctor visits to see if there was anything else with him that needed fixing. He wanted to give Bill the chance to ride his bike guilt-free, not worrying about racing ahead of Eddie or leaving the boy in the dust, so, naturally, a little white lie had to be involved. You know, for the sake of Bill's happiness. There was no way he actually enjoyed walking with Eddie, he was what most would call a pity-friend. How ironic. The kid that lost his brother legitimately pities the weird, hypochondriac, mommy issues-ridden kid. Ironic and pathetic, and just a little funny if you really thought about it.</p>
<p>"Oh, a-alright." Bill nodded, was he skeptical? Eddie couldn't tell. He wasn't very good at reading people. As incredible of a liar as Eddie was, his social skills were not desirable in the slightest and he was ashamed to say that human emotions that weren't his own (and were his own, to be honest) scared him. Then again, who was he to point out a special fear of his, he was scared of everything.</p>
<p>The lie would pass easily, all he had to do was stay after school for a little while and walk home by himself once the coast was clear, that was easy enough, he'd done it before. Eddie tended to subtly give Bill breaks from walking with him every so often, he tried not to be too conspicuous.</p>
<p>Bill and Eddie parted ways to go to class, Bill to chem (a class that only Bill Denbrough could manage to fail) and Eddie to algebra, a class that he and tons of others managed to fail.</p>
<p>Richie was never failing, Eddie zoned out reminiscing in the nights in Eddie's room where Richie would flawlessly explain concepts in school. Richie never studied, always skipped class, and somehow always made straight A's. He laughed a little wondering how such a dumbass got granted with such a brain on him, the same Richie that didn't lift a pinkie to become an honor roll student had also smoked some random plant thinking it was weed and thrown up violently for the rest of the day.</p>
<p>"Something funny, Kaspbrak?" Mr. Kelvin boomed, the lesson screeched to a stop.</p>
<p>"No, sir." Eddie said hastily, turning red under the scrutiny of his classmates.</p>
<p>Not entirely true: Richie was funny. He was really funny.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 03- Nurse's Office</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Who knew days could be so quick when you were dreading something in them.</p>
<p>Eddie was an expert in this particular field, he wanted to blame it all on Bill and say that he'd be fine if Bill didn't pity him so much and need to ride his bike home, or walk to class with his actual friends (who Eddie wanted literally nothing to do with) but that was utter bullshit. First of all, Bill didn't ask to be left alone, Eddie decided that alone time was what Bill needed all on his own and second of all, Bowers would beat Eddie up if half the school was there to protect him, what good would Bill do? He might even beat up Eddie twice as badly because of Bill standing there, unable to do anything. It was an almost daily routine, one that he was sadly used to but was terrified all the same.</p>
<p>Sometimes he got out of it, but it was so rare that he never depended on Henry finding some other dweeb to pummel into a random locker. As cruel as Bowers was, fuck if he wasn't a punctual guy. He had routines, which was respectable, and he stuck to them. Every day he'd ambush Eddie as he was trudging to second period science and trying to remain utterly unseen, but sure enough, as lucky as he thought he'd gotten Henry would always jump to him from behind, grabbing Eddie by the hair and slamming his head into a locker. That wasn't exactly fair, Eddie wasn't giving Henry nearly enough credit, it wasn't just head injuries: he also specialized in backpack-shits, locker-locking (a technique in which he'd get some poor random soul to empty their locker so that he could lock Eddie inside it), bathroom ambushes (a least favorite of Derry High School's student Body, as it often involved knives and DIY flamethrowers) and swirlies. It was absolutely sickening to think that getting your head forced into a soiled toilet bowl while it was being flushed and not being allowed up for air until all the shit— and most of your dignity— was gone was one of the more desirable forms of ambush at their school.</p>
<p>A more dreaded form of torture, and unfortunately The Bowers Gang's favorite method, was deadly violent ambush. With knives. Lots of knives. Bowers received a knife from his dad at the ripe old age of nine, he'd been threatening to cut people up (and actually cutting people up) since then, he was the renowned bully and Eddie— for some odd reason— was dangerously near the top of his list, if not number one. There was something about him that just made Henry have it out for him, maybe it was that he was sick all the time, too short, maybe even because he was asthmatic but it made him shudder to think about. It made him more than shudder, it made him want to sink into the floor and stay down there for the rest of eternity, it made him want to vomit his guts out so Bowers couldn't cut them out himself (this wasn't too much of an exaggeration, that was the terrifying part).</p>
<p>The bell signaling the end of the first period was about Eddie's least favorite sound in the whole world, it was maybe on par with the sound of the love of his life saying he'd be back soon, something Eddie had now concluded to be literal bullshit, much to his dismay. The walk-of-shame to Eddie's next class period was where he was the most noticed at school, everyone in the hall had caught on, some glanced at him with pity (would people just stop with the whole pity thing already?), some with amusement, which stung but anything was better than being pitied, some pretended not to see him, but the awkward and way-too-deliberate double takes were enough for Eddie to know that they knew exactly what was about to go down. Some watched as Henry beat the living shit out of Eddie, some pretended not to watch, some couldn't look. The boy wasn't popular, yeah, but he was nice enough and hadn't done anything wrong so the ones with good morals and shit like that didn't look because they knew it was just unprovoked, senseless, merciless violence.</p>
<p>"Hey, girly-boy!" Someone snarled, popping out from around the corner, a malicious smile painted onto his face. Henry Bowers, the greasy, mullet-wielding, psychopathic demon that ruined Eddie's day. Every day. Since they were five and Eddie and Henry were in the same kindergarten class. That year was when Eddie realized that not everyone wanted to protect him, some wanted to do the exact opposite to him. Eddie was pushed to the floor and stepped on in the playground, he couldn't breathe, the world spun around him, he was a dizzy mess of tears and scrapes and sloppy, choking breaths. It was the most humiliating moment of Eddie's life, he was so weak and he'd never realized it before, his dainty fragility was plain and on display for everyone gathered around him to see.</p>
<p>"I said hey, girly-boy!" He repeated, his voice deepening significantly and becoming more of a warning growl. "Fucking look at me, fag." He snapped, grabbed Eddie by the back of his pink collar and slammed his head back against the locker, white and black flooded Eddie's vision, his face turned red from lack of oxygen. From red to purple, like a sunset, and suddenly Eddie looked like he was about to die. Literally. He gagged and blinked rapidly so that he wouldn't let the tears that he wanted to come spilling out run down his face. He refused to cry in front of Henry ever again. Henry's jagged, metal ring swiped across his cheek and drew blood, it trickled warmly down his face and snapped Eddie into reality. He was bleeding. This was happening. Henry never cut him, or rather, he rarely cut him. "Don't fucking ignore me." Henry spat, all his weight leaning into the forearm that was crushing Eddie's throat, hazardously close to cutting off his oxygen completely. Eddie sputtered as he nodded frantically, to which Henry spat on him once again and tossed him to the side like some rag doll. "You fell, right?"</p>
<p>"Right."</p>
<p>Henry was never caught, the science wing was nearly completely abandoned except for some students, the teachers were all confined to their classrooms, totally oblivious to the pummeling going on just outside them, and when Eddie went to the nurse's office— he only ever went when Henry had cut him, otherwise the nurse would get suspicious— he couldn't sacrifice getting a disease from trying to patch himself up. His excuse each time was that he fell over, it wasn't too hard to believe, he looked like type of person to be a complete klutz.</p>
<p>The lie formulated and settled in his mind as he walked into his second period science class to grab a hall pass, if his mom knew he was late to class he'd be banned from seeing the light of day for the next month. It had happened before: 'Eddie-bear, you were doing drugs weren't you?' 'You could've been killed in those two minutes, honey.' And when he assured her she was being ridiculous; 'Eddie, how could you be so selfish? I'm trying to help you and you call me ridiculous?' 'Ungrateful brat, go to your room.' So he was never late to class again, it wasn't particularly as if her getting notified he'd been in the nurse's office was any better than him being late, but he wouldn't take any chances. Without another word, Eddie was given permission to leave class and visit the nurse, who he was well acquainted with by now. He took his own sweet time walking there, looking to the floor to avoid the annoyed glances he received from a group of seniors giving a sweet-looking family a tour of the school, a short, beaten up asthmatic was definitely not a selling point for Derry High School, that was one thing Eddie knew for certain.</p>
<p>A receptionist rolled her eyes upon Eddie's arrival and pointed to the chairs outside the nurse's office, this was perhaps the most interesting part of his 'excursion', just sitting there, waiting for god-knows-how-long in a torn up chair outside the room, this happened almost every time, the nurse was always on the phone, but that was fine because the longer she was on the phone the longer he got to miss class. He admired the way all the office ladies were friends and had their own grown up, boring banter that seemed to elicit desperate laughs and wheezes from them all. What exactly was so funny about, 'Huh, it's Samantha again, are we shocked, ladies?', Eddie didn't know, but it was always fun to watch them mimic whatever 'Samantha' was saying with mocking hand puppets, it was fun to watch the principal and vice principal call students in and out of their office and come out with defeated looks once they were done dealing with a specially tough to handle student.</p>
<p>He usually never had to wait for more than ten minutes, but he supposed that it was a particularly busy day for Nurse Peters, the same lady that shouldn't even be considered a nurse after 'The Cough Drop Incident'. Though all the teachers and staff agreed to try to convince the students that it was just a myth and never really happened, there were some seniors that never graduated and had been there for the whole thing. Apparently there had been a day where she was busy, busier than usual, but that was when (of course) all the students got the most badly injured, how could they not? That was just how the world operated. Someone was badly concussed, all dizzy, incoherent, sweaty and everything, they came stumbling into the nurse's office with two human crutches at their side, Nurse Peters looked up from her computer, waved over to the big jar of 'Soothing Eucalyptus' cough drops in the corner, the person (or, the person's friends, rather) then proceeded to explain that they'd hit their head hard and needed to go to a hospital, she looked him straight in the face and told him to get a cough drop and go back to class. Somehow after that she managed to keep her job, the teachers said she was well qualified but everyone knew it was just because the workforce of Derry was severely lacking in school nurses. There were theories that she had never even set foot in a medical school.</p>
<p>The otherwise silent office was disturbed by the door to the principal's office opening, out he walked, papers in hand, he held the door open for someone else. He didn't think much of it, why should he? He was profusely bleeding from his face, even his usual observational sessions of the quiet school office were blurred for that day, but then, and only then, was he brought flailing back into sharp reality by these impossible words:</p>
<p>"Alright, Mister Tozier, you're good to go."</p>
<p>The world stopped, Eddie stopped functioning completely, his breath was whipped out of him by the consonants and vowels that flooded his system, his previously hung-low-head shot up towards the voice, and sure enough there was... someone. He thought he might be going crazy, absolutely insane, it would explain why he was seeing Richie all of a sudden. Was that what he'd stooped to? Missing Richie so much that his vivid imagination was painting him as a fifteen year old into Eddie's everyday life? Was he even actually there? If not, that was some cruel mind trick, by far the most malicious mirage in the history of the world. It was like Eddie was trapped in a desert, had been for years and had gone insane to the point of seeing paradises and ponds galore, a sanctuary that didn't exist but brutally got his hopes up. He just... he looked so real. How was he here? But... how was he not here? He wanted to do anything to get his attention, since the lanky teen hadn't taken notice of the small, beaten up one staring at him like he had a foot growing from the top of his head, which he very well could've and Eddie wouldn't have gazed any more intently. He had to snatch his focus, somehow he was going to catch him walking out and then Richie would stop in his tracks, stare the same way, right?</p>
<p>Eddie's mind was overcome with a wave of worry, what if he didn't remember him? Or worse, what if he did, but he just didn't miss him? Eddie swallowed those worries, mind dead set on making Richie look his way. 'What if he doesn't recognize me? What if he sees me, knows who I am and keeps walking? What if he doesn't look at all? What if he starts to come over and I freak and run?' Eddie's mind was deafening, but he was determined not to let that hinder his confidence.</p>
<p>"Ow! My face! Oh, man, that is... extremely painful! Owie!" Eddie announced loudly, gaining everyone's attention and some glares. As had been hoped for, the tall boy's eyes shot wide open, staring at Eddie like a deer caught in headlights, he then gulped and stepped toward him, well, half-stepped, like he was rethinking it as it was happening. The principal, very confused, cautiously walked back into his office. He glanced in between them curiously. Richie looked second longer, then started out the door, Eddie shot up in his chair. "I'm all good now! How did that happen? Wow, so crazy." He notified everyone in the office, getting up and stiffly walking over to Richie with a fake smile. He took Richie by the arm and dragged him out of the office, he had only just opened his mouth to talk when the principal popped his head out of his office.</p>
<p>"Eddie! Good deal! Were you going to show Richie around?" Eddie nodded swiftly, so did Richie. Once they were in a semi-secluded space, Eddie couldn't hold back from throwing his arms around Richie, his head barely reached Richie's shoulders. Richie hugged back in an instant, it was almost bone crushing, but they were both nearly brought to tears with joy.</p>
<p>The only reason Eddie wasn't absolutely fuming was because an explanation was sure to follow their emotional reunion.</p>
<p>"Richie." He said, pulling away and looking him up and down. "Why? Where did you go?" Richie's face fell, he looked worried, embarrassed. Eddie's smile faded, that was the exact same expression that was burned in Eddie's memory permanently from when he'd asked when Richie first told him he was moving, he could never forget it. Richie still wasn't going to tell him.</p>
<p>"We really don't have to talk about it, I mean, hey. That shit's in the past, right?" Eddie felt about ready to cry with fury, how could Richie just not tell him? After just getting up and leaving him alone for years. "Eds."</p>
<p>"Fuck you, Richie, you left for three years with no reason why, you didn't talk to me once, you didn't leave an address, you didn't leave a number, you sent me into this spiral of... of chaos and you just expect me to be cool with 'putting it in the past?'" Eddie felt about ready to break down and cry, but he was stronger than that, he had to be if Richie was going to take him seriously, grow a fucking pair and just tell him already.</p>
<p>"Eddie-"</p>
<p>"No! Do you have any idea how hard the last few years have been for me?" Richie shook his head no. "And do you know who made them that difficult?" Richie nodded. "You." Eddie gulped back tears, he was so embarrassed, he'd been so happy to see Richie, and he was overjoyed to have his best friend back, but Richie was torturing him. Literally torturing.</p>
<p>"Eddie, I'm sorry-"</p>
<p>"I hate you."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 04- Light Switch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He'd flipped like a light switch. One moment he was bright as ever, smiles and hugs and fluttering feelings that he'd missed so much, then in an instant it went dark. Everything. Total blackout. Did he have to go as far as saying he hated Richie? Probably not, but he said it anyway. After all, this guy had been gone, totally off the map for years. His best friend and the only person he'd ever loved, poof, just dissipated like dust in the wind. He deserved to beat the shit out of Richie, to ignore him, to never talk to him again or better; fucking bully him for the rest of the time they knew each other. That's what Eddie wanted, that's what he thought he should do, it was only fair, right? Yet some part of him (that part of him that fell and fell hard after their pity-peck that changed Eddie's life) wanted to forgive him, he wanted to just run back into the comforting arms of his best friend, he wanted more than anything to forget those years of brutal mental abuse. Above all, he was humiliated that his smile had evaporated completely almost as fast as it had come to be, how could he go from so overwhelmed with joy to so broken down with resentment in the span of two seconds.</p>
<p>Eddie had walked back to his science class as a shell, just his body, his heart had been left behind with Richie who took it without asking, apparently no permission was needed for Richie to just steal Eddie's heart and soul like that, and it most certainly wasn't given— after all who would choose to give away his heart forever to someone who thought nothing of the singular moment that changed the former's life forever. He hovered by the door, he seriously thought about going back in and sticking out the rest of the school day as if his lost hope hadn't just been found, dangled in front of him then stomped on and crushed brutally. He thought about it, sure, but there was no way he was going back to class, he'd just hide away in the bathroom until the bell and drop of the hall pass he'd swiped before leaving so his mother wouldn't ever find out about his nearly-weekly rendezvous at the nurse's office.</p>
<p>Being alone in the bathroom gave Eddie a scary amount of time to think about what had just happened to him. What the hell was he going to do now? There was a probability that he was just going insane and his mind was conjuring scenarios and people, what if he just zoned out in the office chair and imagined that whole thing, in some ways it was more likely than Richie being back and happy to see him. Eddie pinched himself to make sure that if he was zoned out he'd zone back in before his mind got too hopeful and he went looking for Richie so they could sit down and talk about what the fuck was so secret and important that Eddie, Richie's best friend, couldn't know.</p>
<p>How would he even cope with Richie talking to him? He was stupid fucking in love and wanted to spill his guts at their first reunion only a matter of minutes ago, he'd wanted to say stuff like, 'Fucking hell, Rich, I missed you. I actually more than missed you, did you know that you ruined the last couple of years for me because I was incapable of not thinking about you? Did you know that? Funny, isn't it,' but of course that would scare him off, make him think that Eddie was practically obsessed with him (or, rather, let him know that Eddie was practically obsessed with him). Eddie came on too strong, obviously, this wasn't news to anyone, really. For example, Eddie was asking Richie to come over and hold him in the middle of the night while he was trapped in the shadows after only a few days of their friendship— that was an unfair example though, the coming on strong was utterly mutual in their esteemed, romantic (so to speak) friendship. It had gone like this: hugging from day one, minute one, basically; staying up late on the phone by night one; staying over to sleep by day two; rooftop rendezvous by day three and soon it was just the kind of friendship that was frowned upon for two boys. No one particularly liked watching the two cuddle on the bus ride home, they got all shifty and uncomfortable when Eddie would bring his head up from its home on Richie's chest and whisper something in his ears causing them both to lose it laughing. Of course no one particularly enjoyed watching Richie press soft kisses to the top of Eddie's head in the hallway where they'd walk hand in hand. </p>
<p>Everyone automatically assumed that they were dating, and of course that assumption came with its fair share of punches and after-school pummeling by Henry Bowers. However, unlike everyone assumed, they didn't mind the nervous stares, the whispers at each blatant display of affection, the glares from these incredibly unstable guys that— for some reason— thought watching two boys have a good friendship would turn them gay.</p>
<p>Not that Richie and Eddie were gay, they'd never even talked about being more than friends, they didn't need to. They were just giving each other the love that no one else did: to be very clear, Richie's parents loved him very much, they were great parents, but Richie had said once, 'I don't know, Eds, he's just weird all the time, and mom's always taking care of him and he always looks like he's been crying, and either he's super funny and cool or he's sad. It makes me uncomfortable.' Eddie tried to comfort him, but Rich kept going, 'That's a shit thing to say, isn't it?' His voice became choked, 'If there's something seriously wrong with his mind and I'm saying he's uncomfortable to be around?' Richie, it's ok, rea- 'I'm fucked up, Eddie! He's my dad, I should be helping him!' That was where the memory got blurry, Eddie's mindless reassurances became sleepy, repetitive, they shifted so that Eddie was holding Richie, as opposed to their usual hours spent comforting one another.</p>
<p>Richie got mysterious after then and it all went downhill, though nothing in particular was on his radar (a stupid thought, really, thinking back there had been so many things that could've been wrong with him), he really tried to help Richie. He tried talking to him, tried not talking to him, tried being more affectionate than usual, tried no affection at all, tried to carry on their friendship as if nothing was wrong, tried everything. Nothing worked, nothing made anything Richie was doing seem less secretive. Part of Eddie told himself over and over that it was none of his business and he didn't need to know everything, but the other part told him that Richie's happiness was up to him, an extremely pretentious thought that brought Eddie further under the surface than he needed to be, but the thought that he stuck with the most. It was flattering, comforting in a way that Richie could be happy all if Eddie did something different or something special to make him happy, that it was all up to him. How fucking wrong he'd been to think that.</p>
<p>Eddie felt the cold plastic of the stall door chill his forehead as he leaned against it. He had been so selfish, he said he hated Richie. He didn't. What he hated was that his emotions were flipping like coins in a coin toss, one second he loved Richie, then he hated him, then he loved him again, and now... he didn't know what the fuck he was feeling. He felt... guilty? Guilty that he'd said he hated Richie, guilty that he'd been so insistent on knowing where Richie was going, why Richie was going, not once had he thought that maybe he couldn't know. Never had he ever tried to entertain the idea that he was in the wrong and it was Richie's business and he wanted to tell Eddie but couldn't. Fuck, maybe that was it. Maybe he couldn't.</p>
<p>Acid whirled in his stomach, like he was about to be sick, oh god. He'd just told his best friend that he fucking hated him and he thought that he actually did, but what if it wasn't Richie's fault he couldn't tell? What if he was in trouble? His thoughts battled one another:</p>
<p>All the more reason to find out why the hell he left, his happiness is your responsibility, remember? </p>
<p>Shut the hell up, no it's not. </p>
<p>Yes it is, could you live with yourself if Richie got hurt because you stopped trying to help him? </p>
<p>Fuck off. That's not happening. </p>
<p>How can you say that? You don't know anything about what he's going through. </p>
<p>Yes I do, I know Richie, if he could tell me he would. If he's in trouble and won't tell me then I'm not responsible. </p>
<p>Yes you are, if you really cared about Richie then you'd find out without his permission, he doesn't control you, you can find out whatever you want. </p>
<p>It's. Not. My. Business.</p>
<p>He put you through years of torture and your nightmares only got worse, you think that would've happened if he had just told you what was going on? </p>
<p>Well, no, but- </p>
<p>Exactly. It's his fault that you had the worst fucking years of your life, you deserve to know the truth. </p>
<p>No, I- </p>
<p>Yes, you do! Yes, you do, alright? Richie's a selfish asshole who doesn't care about you or what you had to go through. </p>
<p>And you're a selfish asshole who doesn't care about Richie or what he's going through. </p>
<p>Who cares about Richie?</p>
<p>We do! </p>
<p>You do. </p>
<p>Same thing. </p>
<p>The nightmares got too loud and that was his fault! </p>
<p>You are the nightmares, wh-</p>
<p>His ears were ringing, his head was spinning, he was sweaty and nauseous and his head hurt like hell and he just wanted to crumple onto the floor and cry. God, fuck his mind. Fuck the two sides of it that would not shut the hell up and leave him in peace. Especially fuck the one side that screamed when he talked, the side that was "Eddie's Voice Of Reason" and "The Only Good Thing He Could Do For Himself". The other guy was a pussy that cared too much about everyone else and not enough about himself. But that was according to who? The very voice in question? His mother? Why should he listen to them?</p>
<p>Well, because-</p>
<p>"Fuck off!" Eddie cried finally and slammed his fist against the stall door, he felt like crying, he did cry, he hadn't been this confused since Richie left. "Ugh, fuck you!" He sobbed, repeatedly striking the door with the side of his fist. </p>
<p>'I don't hate Richie. I need to tell him that.' What good would that do? </p>
<p>The poor guy— obviously without Eddie's knowledge of what was going on in his mind— had walked to class befuddled as ever, wandering listlessly, stopping only once to get help on where the fuck room 409 was in the school, nothing on his mind but what Eddie had just said. As if he didn't feel fucking guilty enough, Eddie had to go and play the victim, Richie wasn't the only one who'd lost his best friend by no choice of his own. So, in turn, as much as Eddie (allegedly) hated Richie, Richie (allegedly) hated Eddie. One knew deep down that was utter fucking bullshit, and the other knew right on the surface. As soon as the words had been released into the world to vanish into the air, but not vanish from Richie's memory, he knew that he was lying through his teeth to say that. </p>
<p>The pure chaos that unfolded in each lovesick teen's mind was like keeping a bunch of little kids in a classroom and making them sit there in silence facing the front for hours, then letting them go, they ran everywhere; some screaming, some quiet, trampling each other, taking over one another, pushing aside and pulling away. Eddie flipped from hate to love to hate to love to love-hate to hate-love to love again, back to hate, back to love, settling on love for a while but making room for the possibility of hate, and every feeling in between. Richie "hated" Eddie only to be petty, only to prove that he didn't need Eddie any more than Eddie needed him. What bullshit that was. </p>
<p>What fucking bullshit this all was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 05- Scrapping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His head hit the floor with a soft thud as the rest of his body hit the carpet. He took no notice of this, however, as he was still deep asleep, thrashing and sobbing in his subconscious state. If it weren't for the sharp pain in his head at the collision of it and the wood corner of his bed frame, he would've stayed sleeping and woken up sore, sobbing and on the ground. The nightmares were worse that night, they were worse with the knowledge that the one person who'd ever been able to help Eddie through his sleepless nights was right there in Derry and still wasn't curled up next to him, sleeping peacefully with Eddie's head resting on his chest. Eddie would've never thought it possible to miss someone more than when they were actually gone, now Richie was within biking distance and he had never felt further away.</p>
<p>Now that he was awake, two AM had just passed, the wary, paranoid, overthinking time of night (well, morning, technically) begun. On a normal night Eddie would grow wary at every noise his ears picked up on— which was all of them— so it was torture to stay awake while a spastic fucking bug kept hitting his window over and over... and over and over and over. It was almost concerning how the poor thing wasn't dead yet, Eddie was pretty sure if he was that size (you're pretty damn close, Spaghetti Head) he'd be dead by the time he hit the window for the twenty fifth time, he's he counted, yes, that was his only source of sanity. Eddie finally reached the conclusion that opening the window would just cause the bug to fly right through and stop making such a racket, so he rose from his perch on the floor and shakily walked over to the window, wincing at every creak in his floorboards. Eddie slid his window open, an ordeal that was the opposite of silent. He hadn't really ever opened his window since... well, it was years ago and stupid, anyway.</p>
<p>"Fucking finally, Jesus, were you even awake? It's usually two when you wake up, maybe my timing was off, it's like two thirty now, right?" Eddie jumped out of his skin, no bug came hurtling through like he'd anticipated, instead there was only a voice in the dark that kept on rambling about sleep schedules, or rocks, or how cold it was outside (it wasn't even that cold), something Eddie would shut his window immediately at if it weren't for the familiarity that hung in the air and made his heart pound against his ribcage. "Anyway," Eddie looked back down, the jump wasn't far, he'd made it before, not that he was considering going down there in the dark in the middle of the night. "I have just come here to inform you that I hate you too, our hate is mutual, we can have hard feelings without hard feelings, ok? So uh... fuck you, man."</p>
<p>It took Eddie a second, judging by how nonchalantly he'd said it, Eddie would've never assumed Richie was confessing to their mutual hatred (that, as we know, doesn't even really exist, but hey. Let them process, alright? It's been a while).</p>
<p>"Richie, what?" Eddie asked, his voice was smaller and more afraid than he intended.</p>
<p>"You heard me. Fuck. You." Richie said again, his tone still not to the level of bitter where anyone would ever assume he was actually serious, even Eddie had trouble believing Richie, he was one for cruel jokes, but why now? Why after they hadn't seen each other for years? "Now, uh. Come on down here, Eds- Eddie, and we can fight. Like men. We might have to take this out in the street, you know, people who say this is a safe neighborhood clearly haven't seen what I c-"</p>
<p>"Stop talking."</p>
<p>"Okay." Richie nodded, Eddie wanted to go down there so that they could talk this out and be friends again, that would surely happen if Eddie just apologized, right? Richie knew how fucking stubborn Eddie could be, so he'd be glad to get even a small apology from the latter. But it was dark. Really dark. Dark was bad.</p>
<p>"Do you mind coming up? Just for a second?" Eddie asked quietly, half expecting a misshapen monster to jump out of the shadows instead of his best friend that he (allegedly) hates.</p>
<p>"What, we're gonna scrap up there? Sorry, Edward, I don't think I'd be ok with accidentally waking the Lovely Lady Kas-"</p>
<p>"You fucking dumbass, we're not going to 'scrap'. I just want to talk to you." Eddie sighed, stepping back from the window so that his small smile was hidden from Richie's view, it was placed there (no doubt) by Richie's dumb joke about Eddie's mom, it wasn't even really a joke, it was just one of the many nicknames he'd given the large, large woman.</p>
<p>"Alright, you missed my late night lovin', just admit it." He did, he really, really fucking did.</p>
<p>"No, idiot, where's your brain? I just want to talk." He emphasized talk so that Richie couldn't possibly end up getting the wrong idea. Though, knowing the trashmouth that stood below him, his fucked up mind was already imagining horrible things, he could tell by the smirk that was illuminated as soon as his head popped up from the windowsill. Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped back a little too quickly, he hadn't anticipated how he'd actually apologize to Richie, as he was usually far too stubborn to apologize to... well... anyone, really. Let alone when he knew that he was wrong and that he was being a selfish asshole.</p>
<p>"So, Eds, missed the feeling of my massive d-"</p>
<p>"No! Fucking gross!" Eddie's voice went significantly higher, he'd resulted to angry squeaks, he thanked god that the lights were dim enough to where Richie couldn't see Eddie's crimson face, well, not that the light mattered anyway, Richie was too busy inspecting his room like he was searching for evidence of a crime.</p>
<p>"Eddie, this is ridiculous, your room hasn't changed since we were twelve, the fuck?" Richie laughed after a few brief yet judging scans of the mostly impersonal, mostly empty room. He was right, Eddie organized his pills in the same old way (in order of what time he took them), he still had his books organized by genre and color and author, he hadn't moved his furniture, his fanny packs were the same, and his closet was the same; the reason for this being that he hadn't grown or needed new clothes in years. For some reason, though he'd never felt ashamed of his static way of doing things, he did now. He bet that Rich had changed, probably gotten cooler, maybe got new comics, bigger clothes, rearranged his room and whatnot, whereas Eddie hadn't grown at all. He supposed what made him feel so shitty about the room he'd had since he was twelve (Richie helped him decorate) was that it just showed how he hadn't moved on from Richie's disappearance.</p>
<p>He didn't want to change his room because it reminded him of Richie throwing himself onto Eddie's bed, shaking with laughter after seeing Eddie's array of fanny packs, after all, he was only aware of two. The conversation that followed was Richie insisting that they organize his room and name everything something dumb (this was decided after he'd dubbed Eddie's fanny packs the 'Pack Rack', a name Eddie had visibly cringed at), for example: Book Nook, Clothing Corner, Pill Junction. They all sounded like shit out of a cheesy kids book but after Richie left, he still mentally said that when he took his pills he was going to Pill Junction, he cringed every time and shook his head, but for some reason couldn't find it in himself to reorganize. To move on.</p>
<p>And now here he was, utterly exposed, with nothing to back up the fact that he wasn't a totally lovesick loser.</p>
<p>"Not true, I..." He scoured his room for any variation since he was twelve. His lamp had moved to his nightstand, he got a few more books, had that band poster always been there?</p>
<p>"You just missed me so much that you couldn't help but keep everything as I had left it?"</p>
<p>Ok, what the fuck? Was he just that easy to read?</p>
<p>Eddie snapped his head in Richie's direction and was relieved out of his wits to know that he was kidding, that much was conspicuous by his awkward finger guns (something Eddie was relieved to know hadn't changed), smirk and raised eyebrows.</p>
<p>"Pfft, you wish. Anyway. Sit down, we need to talk."</p>
<p>"Spicy." Cue Eddie embarrassingly blushing, fuck natural bodily responses. "Wait, weren't we supposed to be scrapping? Like men?"</p>
<p>"No, we're not fucking scrapping." Eddie said, way too serious, Richie's face fell. "I'm sorry. I blamed everything that happened over the past couple years on you and I'm sorry. I didn't even try to think that you couldn't tell me, or that it was just none of my business, just know that I feel like shit."</p>
<p>Richie gasped, he looked like he was about to cry, his mouth hung open and he tilted his head to one side. If Eddie didn't know any better he'd think he had just accidentally proposed to the guy.</p>
<p>"An apology?" Fucking dumbass. "For me?" Idiot, yes it's for you. "Aww, Eddie!" Richie smiled wider than he should and drew out the 'e' sound as if Eddie feeling like shit was the most adorable thing in the world. "Eddie, my love, I could never stay mad at you." And just like that, something was off. His tone was too serious, his gaze unblinking and genuine, he leaned in a little too far, not like they were talking normally, like they were about to... like... kiss. "An apology from the Stubborn Spaghetti! Wow! Lucky me!" Richie grinned like he'd won the lottery, returning the mood in the room from it's warm tension to the lightness of when Richie made a joke about Eddie's mom. Fuck.</p>
<p>"Never mind, I'm not sorry, I hate you." </p>
<p>"No, you don't!" No shit. "You love me!" No fucking shit. Except, that wasn't teasing, that was Richie making sure that he hadn't maybe just lost his best friend again, and Eddie sensed that desperation, so as nervous as he was to admit this out loud—</p>
<p>"Of course I do, dumbass." Eddie shook his head, Richie looked like he could just about fly, Eddie hadn't even said the 'L Word' and he was smiling like a fucking madman, and ok, that was adorable. "I missed you." He added with an unsure smile, not wanting the conversation to get too... serious. Richie ensures that no deep or meaningful conversations followed by tackling Eddie in a hug, shoving him backwards. "Warning next time, Rich!" Eddie squeaked and pounded his fists against Richie's back, that did absolutely nothing, but he didn't actually  want Richie off him, duh. </p>
<p>"I missed you too, Spaghetti! Not as much as I missed your mom though." This comment would, on any other day at any other time, get a Richie slapped and kicked out of Eddie's room, left to sit on the lawn outside and pout and apologize pathetically until Eddie let him back up— which he always did, because who could resist that? But not that day, not that time, Eddie was unable to feel anything other than his racing heart and the smile that was now, admittedly, hurting his jaw a little (but of course he couldn't stop). God, how the fuck had he gone three years without this? "Speaking of your lovely mother, how has she been handling my departure." </p>
<p>"Inconsolable, Rich, honestly. I'm glad you came back when you did, she was on the wrong side of lonely." Eddie said, the hugging had been toned down to Richie laying with his head on Eddie's chest, his arms snaked affectionately around Eddie's waist, just like they used to. </p>
<p>That only lasted for a second though, because Eddie's radio— which had been quietly playing in the background of this whole scrapping-to-apologizing-to-hugging ordeal— was now playing Stacy's Mom, and obviously that sent the two into hysterics. </p>
<p>Even Eddie, who again, would usually beat Richie's ass for singing the lyrics as 'Eddie's mom' instead, was tearful with laughter. </p>
<p>"I mean it, 'Chee," Damn. That was one Richie hadn't heard in a while. It had the same old effect though. "I really missed you."</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 06- Handsome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Shut the fuck up."</p><p>"What, you're saying she wouldn't be happy to see me?"</p><p>"No, she wouldn't, dumbass, stop talking about my mom." Eddie scoffed, he was whispering, whereas Richie took no such liberty, his voice was as blaring and comedic as ever, unforgettable and familiar. He was waiting at the window to make sure he could act fast the second she left, he'd slept late (it was much needed but still annoying) and his mother had left late by screaming up the stairs at Eddie to wake up. The sheer chaos that unfolded in the next ten minutes had nearly killed both of them: Richie was talking way too loud and that was him just begging to be caught by Eddie's mom; the very woman in question had almost come into Eddie's room and caught Richie in the act of his utter dumbassery; Eddie had stopped the lady from barging into his room by suddenly yelling 'I'm naked', and of course Richie— who had the humor of an immature twelve year old boy— had to shove his face into a pillow to stop himself from laughing loudly. It had all been far too close of a call for Eddie's liking, so when she left and the coast was clear Eddie was fucking pissed.</p><p>"I just live for that adrenaline, huh, Eds?"</p><p>"Shut up, asshole!" Eddie muttered, shoving past Richie to get to his closet, Richie took no hints and spun him around, then wrapped his arms around the below-average-height teen. If there wasn't a three year gap between this time and the last time Richie had done that Eddie might've slapped him and gone back to whatever he was doing, because apparently admitting that you wanted to hug your best friend forever and ever was wrong. Or embarrassing. Or both. But it went sort of as an unspoken agreement that they missed each other so much more than the other wanted to say out loud. "Alright, Rich, let go, we're already late." He said, but Richie still didn't let go. "Come on! Do you want to get in trouble?"</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Fuck off." Eddie wriggled out of Richie's grasp and walked the rest of the way to Clothing Corner (oh god, cringe). He picked out an outfit that followed the same basic structure as every day, a pastel shirt, usually a polo (not today, though) and some annoyingly short shorts.</p><p>"You know, babe," Oh, yeah, another thing. Yet another thing about their friendship that made others uneasy in a way that made them feel all the more special to one another. Richie called him babe, like a lot, fucking adorable, "we're kinda weird."</p><p>"What'cha mean by that?" Eddie asked, he was now in his closet— ha, wow, what a coincidence— changing into the clothes he'd wear for the day. Richie was disgusting and never saw the reason to wear new clothes every day, Eddie was forever on his back for that.</p><p>"I mean we were like, all sweet and then you hated me and then I hated you and then we loved each other again," fuck the L Word for making Eddie's heart race like it did, "and now we still love each other and it makes no sense."</p><p>"Makes sense to me," he stepped back into the room to find Richie spinning in his desk chair, "lots of feelings that had to fully get out before we could go back to normal." He stopped spinning and rested his eyes intently on Eddie's.</p><p>"But we're not back to normal, are we?" His stare was nearly piercing and it made Eddie just a little self conscious as he swallowed pill after pill with no water necessary. "You still want to know why I left and I'm not telling you everything so how can we be back to normal?" Eddie barely maintained his composure and stuck to his morning routine, reluctantly ignoring his overwhelming urge to run over and scoop the tall boy into his small arms.</p><p>"Yeah, we— follow me— yeah, we are." The two walked out of Eddie's room and downstairs to Sonia's bathroom, there was nothing to hide as Rich was already fully aware of Eddie's apparent need for concealer to appear normal in the eyes of his fellow students. "We can be back to normal if you want us to be back to normal, 'Chee, honestly, I don't mind not knowing. It's not my business." He explained, carefully blotting concealer around his dark eyes, being careful not to get it in his eyelashes, or cover his prominent freckles to the point of people catching on, or apply it heavily enough to where an accidental rub of his eyes would smudge makeup onto his hand and give him away.</p><p>"You sure?" Eddie nodded and screwed the cap back onto the thin tube, spinning back around to smile at Richie. "Handsome as always."</p><p>And there it was, the difference between Richie and Bill that had always been there. Bill's thing to say as a reassurance— that still, mind you, was nice to hear— was 'You look good, who cares that you're more feminine than other guys?' and... well, that was the issue. He didn't feel any more feminine than the next high school boy, he didn't want him putting on makeup to be considered feminine, because he wasn't, he was just doing what made him feel confident enough to walk into school without a fucking paper bag over his head. However, Richie on the other hand, didn't make him feel any less like a boy when he was finished and confident, he called him the thing that made Eddie's heart flutter to think about because— sad as it was—, he wasn't called handsome a lot. Or ever, really. And he liked being handsome.</p><p>Well, the compliment was special to each of them in different ways, because as special as Eddie felt at those words Richie lived for the contained little half-smile that crossed Eddie's lips and the pride in his eyes, he felt his heart swell slightly at the little puff in Eddie's chest as a result of a tiny boost in the boy's confidence.</p><p>"Thanks, Richie." Eddie smiled genuinely, something he'd found himself to be doing a lot more over the span of the last day, huh, wonder why? Richie shrugged bashfully, like he wasn't used to complimenting Eddie so frequently or something, and wrapped an arm around Eddie's shoulders, an action that had always put everything around the two to rest and eased their minds of whatever troubles happened to be dwelling there. Man, Eddie would be doing just fine in life if the only person that could ever hug him like this ever again was Richie. Every small movement, each breath or blink or slight shift in stance sent both heartbeats into fucking orbit, made then think for just a second, 'hey, what the hell are we waiting for? We're in love aren't we?' and right when the two decided to cut the shit and do something, the other chickened out. "Bill will be waiting outside soon. We better move along."</p><p>"Bill?" A nod. "Bill Denbrough?" Another nod. "What in damnation? I haven't heard that name since back in my golden years." Somewhere in that ridiculously aged sentence Richie switched from being thoughtful and reminiscent to sounding like the grumpy old fart that lived across from Eddie, it was annoying as shit but remarkable how the dumbest things Richie did still made Eddie's heart want to implode.</p><p>"Okay, grandpa." Eddie scoffed and walked out of his mom's bathroom, hastily checking the clock that flickered it's neon light in little ripples across her nightstand to see how much time they had together before it was back to hell, back to tormenting as usual, back to uneasy stares and fragile glares that chipped away at each boy's confidence bit by bit— fortunately for them all they had to do to get it back was look at each other and share 'the look' that told the other it was going to be ok, that there was only a few more hours until it was just them again. As it should be. "Oh, and uh, Bill's bringing along someone today, I think his name's Stan or something along those lines."</p><p>"I'm pretty sure we were lab partners once in science and I spilled vinegar on him and... well, he hasn't forgotten that, I'm sure and uh... you'll come to my funeral, right?" Richie asked, stopping by Eddie's kitchen to look through the fridge, only to remember how severely lacking the Kaspbrak household was in food that didn't make everyone with taste buds want to hurl. It was all health-freak stuff and it was gross, why eat little pieces of mushy, chopped up cauliflower and try to pass it off as real rice when you could just eat the fucking real rice? Eddie could pretty much hear what Richie was thinking because he laughed and rolled his eyes.</p><p>"It's healthier." Eddie informed the seemingly disgusted person in front of him, Richie seemed somewhat startled that Eddie had answered the question that had been bouncing around his mind (if only he was that good at figuring other things out) with no actual talking on Richie's part needed. "And of course I'll come to your funeral. I'll go up there and say," He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, "Here lies a beloved dumbass that had it coming because you can't just dump vinegar on people and expect forgiveness, moral of the story, this had been a tragic accident and I'm sure not one of you expected anything different." A dramatic pause. "End scene."</p><p>Richie's mind focused on nothing other than the simple fact that among those blatant insults— which, to be fair weren't even insults because how can someone be genuinely insulting someone else but also be looking at them with painfully obvious heart eyes— Eddie had used the word beloved.</p><p>"Wow, I'm flattered, you think I'm beloved!"</p><p>"Duh, jackass, you think I don't love you?" Wowza, ok, that was verging on dangerous territory. Fuck. Ok, well... they did love each other. Not in the same way but that was fine. 'I love you' could be interpreted many ways, right?</p><p>"If I didn't know any better, Kaspbrak, I'd say you were flirting with me." Richie wiggled his eyebrows, apparently as some sort of test of Eddie's will (because anyone who says not running into your best friend's arms and kissing them into tomorrow was easy was obviously lying, either that or they just weren't in love) and Eddie had to think of something quick, sarcastic, abrasive and dismissive, as usual.</p><p>"Good thing you know better then, huh, Tozier?" Good save. Jesus Christ, that was close.</p><p>"Wow, Eds, sh- oh hey, you have a little..." He rubbed under his eye, clearly instructing Eddie to do the same. Eddie got the hint and went to the nearest mirror to fix it. "You know, Eds, you don't need makeup to be cute as hell." He winked, earning a glare from Eddie, he hoped Richie's azure eyes wouldn't stray from his own and travel to where his cheeks were bright red, but of course they did anyway.</p><p>That was how Richie swaggered out of Eddie's house, safe with the knowledge that he had made Eddie Fucking Kaspbrak (of all people) blush, there wasn't anything quite so adorable.</p><p>////////</p><p> </p><p>Hi! I'm going to start posting a couple chapters every Thursday for those of you who want a schedule, enjoy the rest of the book!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 07- Stanley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"It's called the what?" Richie was in hysterics, which would make anyone else feel like laughing if the joke wasn't do idiotic. He held his sides and Eddie's arm for support as he staggered along the sidewalk, crying with laughter. Idiot.</p><p>"The titmouse," more tearful laughter on Richie's part, "how old are you, ten?" Stan mumbled, his cheeks were flushed bright red, he had been eagerly explaining his most recent bird watching adventure when suddenly Richie interrupted.</p><p>"It's really not that funny, Rich." Eddie groaned and pushed the laughing teen off of him. Yeah, Stan said 'titmouse', no one else really saw the big deal. Of course Richie did because he acted like a fucking ten year old who had just found out what the word 'tit' meant.</p><p>"Not that funny?" The group nodded, it was clear, though, that Bill was holding back a small laugh, but for the sake of validation from one Stan Uris, he didn't bother letting the immature side to his sense of humor show. "Not that funny?" He repeated, clearly infuriated at the maturity of his peers. "Well, then. You all just don't have sophisticated senses of humor. Like I do." And that was where everyone started to laugh, leaving Richie wounded and frowning. "What?"</p><p>Eddie fucking hated how endearing his childish manner was, and he hated how his brain was urging him to frown and roll his eyes at all costs and to not laugh, but he really, really wanted to. Just to see the way Richie's eyes lit up like fireworks behind his glasses when he discovered that someone else found him as funny as he did, and maybe Eddie would laugh as hard as he wanted to while they were alone, but it was just expected of him otherwise to be abrasive and dismissive of Richie's behavior. He wanted to forget— just for the day— how nothing compared to Richie's infectious smile and bright eyes once Eddie started to laugh along, he wanted to see that all day every day, even if the joke was the epitome of lame, he'd laugh. For Richie, of course. The same behavior that made everyone else cringe and shake their heads and roll their eyes was the same fucking behavior that made Eddie want to forget that the rest of the world existed, run into his arms and stay there forever. And why didn't he? Richie would let him, for sure.</p><p>"You're a dumbass, Richie." Stan mumbled, the only one of the four who didn't even hold back a laugh, he just stayed annoyed.</p><p>"Now, now, Staniel Urine-"</p><p>"What the fuck?" Stan cut him off, Bill and Eddie rolled their eyes. Bill didn't know Richie as well as Eddie (no one knew Richie as well as Eddie) but they both knew that once a nickname was born, there was no getting rid of it, definitely not if The Trashmouth himself had initiated said nickname. Richie had tons for others: Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, Spaghedward, Eduardo, Billiam, Big Bill, Billy-o. And now Staniel Urine, apparently.</p><p>"Kind words, you'd hate to hurt my feelings, I know you would." Richie pouted, Eddie had to look away for fear of his heart-eyes becoming too prominent, it wasn't like there was anything he could cover them up with either, he was blatantly in love and because of the town they lived in everyone chose to ignore it. If they looked hard enough they'd see it, they'd see the love on Richie's part too, no doubt, but no one really wanted to accept the fact that they were both shamelessly adoring each other. Eddie would tell someone, he wanted to, but when he predicted the conversation that would have to be endured it all sounded so stupid:</p><p>Yes, I am in love with a dumbass that has a shitty sense of humor, looks like a frog and makes sexual jokes about my mother. What about it?</p><p>That would not only be hard to admit, but really fucking weird to say. Who on earth would hear that explanation and still think of him as a normal person with a normal mind? If they weren't already disgusted by the fact that Eddie was a boy who was in love with another boy they'd for sure be weirded out by the fact that he wasn't in love with just any boy. It was Richie The Dumbass, Richie The Trashmouth, Richie The Guy Who Never Shuts Up About His Dick. That Richie.</p><p>"-or just ignore me, that's fine, not my fault if you black eye."</p><p>Eddie snapped back into the world just enough to catch the end of Richie's sentence, which Eddie then concluded to be directed towards him. He then realized there was a pole right in front of him and Richie was just giving him a heads up. He swerved with a start, colliding with Richie and bringing them both to the floor, Stan and Bill watched amusedly as Eddie scrambled back to his feet.</p><p>"There he is!" Richie grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. "I was afraid your mind had gotten sucked out of ya or something, what were you thinking about?"</p><p>"Your hot mom." Eddie retorted, sticking his tongue out. He didn't exactly know why he thought that would piss Richie off— he was the king of mom jokes, after all— but he did. Of course, Richie just laughed, threw an arm around Eddie's shoulders and leaned on him.</p><p>"Touché, Eds."</p><p>"Get off me, I'd prefer to not fall again," just a second to process what he had said, "and don't call me that."</p><p>Nothing came to mind that eased the blush on his face when Richie kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair, not even thinking of something disgusting like Henry Bowers or his mother, he was still fire truck red and his breathing was still uneasy. In cheesy romance novels that Eddie had started reading (laugh, go ahead) he always thought it was an annoying exaggeration when they described the character as using all their strength to not just give up, lean in and kiss the person that made them feel that was. He always rolled his eyes and thought, 'How much self control do you need to just sit there and take the affection like a normal person?' Well now he knew. The answer was: a lot.</p><p>"You love it! Just admit it! You love it, and me and my genius nicknames!" Well, he wasn't wrong. Not even a little bit.</p><p>"I don't love it! Eds is a dumb nickname that makes no sense because Eddie is literally already short for something, I don't get why you feel the need to shorten my name even more, are you that lazy?"</p><p>"I'm not lazy, Eds is an adorable name on you."</p><p>"Is it not, fuckhead!"</p><p>"Will you two please stop fighting like an old married couple?" Stan finally asked, frowning slightly, but the amusement behind his eyes was unmissable. There was something endearing about watching Richie and Eddie bicker that no one could quite place, it was a sort of comfort that was brought to everyone— even people that didn't know Richie and Eddie— when they tossed meaningless banter back and forth. What was so comforting about it? No one exactly knew. Maybe it was the unmistakable fondness that dripped from Eddie's voice where the venom should be, the gestures that should radiate hatred and annoyance just radiated a shared love between the two. Nothing came across the way it should with those two. Nothing came across as annoyed, nothing came across as bored of the other, certainly nothing came across as platonic. Not at first glance, anyway, or even second.</p><p>"We're not fighting, we're... debating." Eddie reworded Stan's phrase more eloquently, trying to make it seem as if he was a civil human being that wasn't screaming for Richie's attention 99% of the time, which he most definitely was. Stan rolled his eyes and kept walking, he wasn't used to being around the pair so he was extra annoyed. That would fade over time (or, it would have to, otherwise he'd have a pretty miserable friendship with them).</p><p>If he was totally honest, Eddie hated school even more now that Richie was back, because all he wanted was to be back alone in Richie and Eddie's safe haven, their little bubble where they could shamelessly be who they wanted to without the uncomfortable stares and hateful comments thrown their way at every hug. At least when he was lonely at school (not alone, just lonely) he wasn't as hated, but with the return of his best friend came the return of him sticking out like a sore thumb.</p><p>Nothing much changed, but Henry now had all the more reason to beat the shit out of Eddie and Richie. Richie took it better, he just sat there glaring whereas Eddie lost his breath and felt his lungs start to shrink, he felt like he was trying to breathe all his air through a tiny little straw from those coffee shops.</p><p>"Edward!" And there Richie, the source of the problem, was. Right in his fucking face.</p><p>"Richie, your breath smells like shit." Eddie coughed and backed away slowly, Stan and Bill had gone off somewhere, probably ahead of the two that walked slower than a grown man trying to ride a tricycle made for a five year old.</p><p>"Well, I'm just relieved that it doesn't smell like your mom's-"</p><p>"Don't even fucking say it." Eddie snapped, cutting Richie off before he could paint a picture in Eddie's head that he did not want there.</p><p>"I'm just saying, after I got done giving you your dose of late night Tozier loving-"</p><p>"You're not making this better, I will hit you."</p><p>"Kinky." Richie winked, earning a harsh slap on the side of his arm, and Richie didn't even react, he just grinned as if Eddie had given him a million dollars. "As I was saying, you know, you were asleep so I snuck down and went for a few rounds with a Lovely Lady Kaspbrak."</p><p>Eddie just sighed and walked faster, refusing to put up with the graphic descriptions Richie was forcing into his head.</p><p>"Gross, Richie." He scoffed.</p><p>"You love me."</p><p>Yeah.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 08- Kissing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Come on, Rich, just stay over." Eddie frowned and held Richie's arm lightly, light enough so that Richie could go, abruptly walk off like, 'Don't care, don't want to' if he wanted. But he didn't, of course not, how could he?</p><p>"Eds, I want to, I do, but I haven't been home in over a day, I'll just check in with my mom, grab some clothes, take a shower and come back at like three." He said, his tone was comforting, almost in a way that would somehow make the few hours of absence seem shorter, less panicked. Eddie wanted to whine like a little kid, cling to him and never let go, but the last thing he wanted was for Richie to become annoyed by him or even start to miss the days without Eddie in some unknown place that wouldn't become known to Eddie or anyone else, not if Richie had anything to say about it. So he just let go of Richie's arm and reluctantly nodded.</p><p>"You're right, sorry, see you later." He mumbled quietly.</p><p>"Don't be sorry, cutie, you know I love you." Richie pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug, kissed the top of his head (god damn it, Richie) and walked off, just like that, no sign of any leftover attachment, nothing like what Eddie felt whenever Richie kissed his head. No red face, no goofy smile, no bright eyes, it was just... something he did. No feelings. It was painful, each day Eddie fell harder and he couldn't do anything about it, not unless he was willing to risk everything in him and Richie's friendship.</p><p>Each second they spent hugging, holding hands, laying next to each other on Richie's roof looking at the stars, that was another second Eddie had to hold his breath and hope that he didn't do something stupid and fuck everything up, because Richie was so close, just a few inches away from everything Eddie wanted, it would be so easy to just lean in, forget about the consequences and demonstrate his overwhelming feelings, his and Richie's lips were so close, anything was easier than hiding any longer.</p><p>But Eddie was never one to take the easy way out.</p><p>So repression it was, until Eddie somehow found a way to get over his feelings and continue being friends with him, no weird restraint involved, no holding his breath. Whenever the fuck that happened, Eddie would be more than prepared, he'd embrace it with open arms.</p><p>He trudged up the stairs, listlessly greeting his mother and kissing her on the cheek before hopelessly flopping backwards onto his bed, looking at his clock, realizing he had literal hours (ten and a half, to be exact) before Richie would come clambering through his window and they were together again. That was too long, and it would seem longer if he couldn't find anything else to do until then. Anything else.</p><p>"Eddie-bear!" Sonia screeched up the stairs, bringing Eddie out of his pondering and back into his room. God, what did she need now? "Bill's on the phone for you!" She added which diminished Eddie's nerves and replaced them with excitement, he was always excited when someone was on the phone for him (it was only ever Bill or Richie, and Richie didn't even call, he just stood stupidly outside Eddie's window until he opened it), it could be quite literally anyone and his face would light up the same exact way.</p><p>"Coming, Ma!" He called back, trying not to seem too eager, playing out the conversation in his head like cheesy movies do. 'Heyyy', no way, that's weird; 'Why hello there', what are you, a British old man; 'Hi there', ok, um, creepy much? Calm the fuck down, Edward, he's your friend.</p><p>Eddie took the phone from his mother's chubby hand and into his one shaky one, fuck social interactions, what the hell were they good for, anyway?</p><p>"Huh-h-hey Eds." Bill said, Eddie could practically hear the smile on the other boy's face and yet his expression remained sour.</p><p>"It's Eddie." There was no fake annoyance, no fondness, no trying to hold back a smile, no slight blush and shake of his head and automatic force of habit hanging onto his words, and most certainly not him pretending not to love the nickname. There was just the genuine feeling of 'Oh god, that sounds wrong, don't do it again'. Bill must've noticed that it wasn't the same 'Asshole, don't call me that.' that Richie received after the nickname left his mouth, because he quickly apologized and the phone lines hung between them in an awkward silence. "Anyway, what did you need?"</p><p>"You w-wanna come oh-over? Beverly's here." The fact that he didn't stutter Beverly's name despite the fact that 'B's were one of his letters that he struggled the most with made Eddie smirk and wince at the same time.</p><p>"Beverly Marsh?" He replied, not really answering the question that he was asked at all, Bill said yes. Eddie was... acquainted with Beverly Marsh. And that brief encounter had been solely Eddie realizing that he could not, in fact, smoke without hacking up his lungs all over the muddy gravel under the bleachers. Before he knew it she was grimacing disgustedly (or was it worriedly?) and pounding her fist repeatedly against his back, which did nothing, but the poor girl didn't know how asthma worked. He finally grabbed his inhaler after his face was mortifyingly purple and he was trembling violently, he had offered her a weak thumbs up and a smile, she had run off and never really looked at him again. It should've stung more that the little burn in his chest that he felt after seeing her turn away all grossed out (worried? maybe.) but he was used to scaring people off. That was a year ago and they hadn't done so much as make eye contact in class since then.</p><p>"Yeah, ok, I'll be there. In like ten minutes," Eddie, dumbass, you have asthma, "fifteen minutes." Eddie, fucknut, you don't have a bike. "Twenty five."</p><p>"C-Cool." Bill said, they exchanged awkward 'well byes' at the same time, talking over one another, chuckling and apologizing, saying the exact same thing again at the same time, then hanging up with awkward smiles on their faces that couldn't even really be categorized as smiles.</p><p>"Ma! I'm going to Bill's!" Eddie called, receiving only a loud snore in return, sleepy mumbling, then a return to the tractor-esque snoring. He sighed and scrawled on a random piece of paper 'Ma, going to Bill's to study for a calculus test, I'll be sure to call you if anything happens, be back before dark. I love you! -Eddie' he cringed at the loving tone used towards such a monster, but he knew she wouldn't physically accept anything other than the cheesy lies that spilled onto the page.</p><p>Rolling his eyes Eddie crept out the door, attempting to sneak out as quietly as possible, so as to not wake his mother and endure the scream-fest that was sure to happen because 'Eddie-Bear, you should've woken me up! Are you trying to sneak off now? Is that what you're doing? Are you trying to be "cool" and impress your little friends? You're going off to do drugs aren't you? Or drink, or have sex, or meet your secre girlfriend?' and it was nothing Eddie hadn't heard before, cue him wincing and shutting the door behind him, shuddering at the thought of kissing a girl.</p><p>He made the twenty minute walk to Bill's, somewhat dreading the conversation topics that would follow, because Bill was... well, he had a way of getting people to talk. He always made people feel so safe with his warm smile, soft voice and gentle eyes. But of course he was utterly conditioned to the town's beliefs (anyone who isn't straight is gross) like mostly everyone else— albeit Richie seemed to be more understanding of certain things, hence their touchy-feely friendship and all— and if Eddie got to talking that could be that last time Bill walked him to school.</p><p>Handsome as always.</p><p>The frown that had taken its rightful place on Eddie's features was replaced with a very obviously lovesick smile— it felt more rightful there than a frown— as he thought about the compliment he'd received that morning from the only person who could really make the word 'handsome' feel as special to someone as it did to Eddie. This smile might've been one that any random guy (Bill. What? Nothing.) would feel the need to slyly nudge him at the sight, ask him who the special girl was, raise his eyebrows when Eddie went beet red trying to think of a plausible lie.</p><p>The world around him brightened when he thought about Richie, his megaphone voice that made him cringe and tell him to shut the fuck up, dude, I'm pretty sure the aliens on mars can hear you on the outside, but gave him these familiar butterflies. Hours passed like seconds, Richie was just popping his head up to Eddie's windowsill from the ground below and suddenly the glow of sunrise entered his room just as quickly as Richie had. Their hands brushed and fireworks ignited in Eddie's heart, pulsing through his veins and becoming so overwhelming that it took literally all he had not to just 'Richie, I'm madly in love with you, ya know.' Don't even start with the quick, (seemingly) meaningless kisses to the top of Eddie's head that made him need to turn around, get a-fucking-hold of himself before Richie noticed his eyes all lit up like a Christmas tree, smile like that of a little kid on their birthday, tip of his nose, cheeks and ears a flaming, violent crimson. Jesus Christ, he had it had.</p><p>He was so lost in thought, reminiscing in his feelings like one half of a newlywed couple, that he almost missed it completely, stumbling blindly happily along. Come on, Eddie, one foot in front of the other. Come on, Eddie, get out of Richie-land. Come on, Eddie, be normal for a couple hours so you don't ruin one of the only friendships you have.</p><p>"Hey, Eddie!" Beverly said, her smile faker than ever and hard to watch, dear god, though her eyes were still enticingly soft like Eddie remembered, the eyes he saw before they almost kissed. And then he had pulled away, or she did, or they both did, realizing something wasn't right about what they were both convinced they were totally, definitely going to do. Maybe it was Eddie lingering a bit far away the redhead, keeping his gaze transfixed on her icy, sapphire-flecked eyes, his own hazel ones not closing even a little bit like they were supposed to when two people kissed. It was an awkward ordeal, wide open eyes, moving much too slowly, no urgency behind any movement they made (all small, meaningless movements, all 'hey, ok, uh, we're gonna kiss now because um, well, I don't actually know why. But we are. Going to kiss.') It felt nothing like when him and Richie had briefly locked lips, him and Bev's moment was built off of, more of a 'well, we're together. Alone. And we're a boy and girl so that means we should kiss." kind of mindset.</p><p>And then of course he'd awkwardly taken a drag of Beverly's cigarette, hoping it would ease his racing mind like cigarettes were said to do. Newsflash: it didn't. He'd aggressively coughed and spluttered, hacking and wheezing all over the gravel, turning purple, probably looking absolutely scarring. Terrifying, probably. And Beverly had run off. And they had never talked again. As expected when you nearly die in front of someone that you were about to kiss. Eddie remembers the only thought in his head after the ordeal had gone down, after Beverly had run off while Eddie was mid-cough, after Eddie had nearly died because he tried kissing a girl— a really, really pretty girl. Well, the first thought was 'thank fucking god I didn't die, ma would kill me. Wait. No. Asthma would kill me. But then my ma would probably do something stupid.'</p><p>The second was, 'yep, I'm definitely gay.'</p><p>That was the first time he had ever admitted The G Word (what he had so lovingly dubbed it before). The first time he'd had the bravery to let everything click. To let all his sleepless nights of thinking, thinking, thinking; his missing Richie with his whole heart, and not for the reason he'd hoped; his inability to focus in class, his red face, his realization that kissing your best friend shouldn't make your heart beat that fast come together into one big satisfying revelation. Or, rather, one big satisfying word, finally, a label he could stick with and— despite all the homophobia in his town, getting way more violent than just slurs and verbal abuse— made him feel safer than he ever had. Gay. </p><p>His first reaction had been to run and tell someone, then a tsunami of reality had swept over him, who could he tell? He could've told Richie. Jesus, it would've been nice to tell Richie. So then came his second reaction, a turning point in that day, a break from all the chaos. Everything stilled inside him, no thoughts, mind empty. He hugged his knees to his chest and sobbed. Through the tardy bell, through the kids rushing through the bleachers, through the 'Hey, what the fuck?' shouted— no doubt at him— as some kids ran off to class laughing. </p><p>His revelation wasn't such a fond memory. </p><p>"Eh-Eddie?" Just as it had that one day under the bleachers, reality hit him hard, like a truck. "You zoned ou-out." </p><p>Right. Bill and Beverly were still there. Of course. </p><p>Eddie let out a small, hopefully unnoticed sigh and followed the redhead and her stuttering companion into the Denbrough residence, time to fucking die.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 09- Weird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie had discovered a lot over the course of an hour or so. To specify exactly, he'd discovered three things.</p><p>The first: Beverly hadn't run away disgusted, because she wasn't disgusted, she was worried for the teen's life. Worried that she couldn't do the right thing to save him, she'd gone to get help. Eddie didn't know this, of course. The years Eddie had spent worrying that he was repulsive and vile were for absolutely nothing. The girl had specified this to break the ice, obviously noticing Eddie's averted gaze and uncomfortable stance, his apparent inability to make normal conversation. He didn't think he'd ever felt a greater relief in his life when Bev (he could call her that!) had turned to him, all blunt and straight-to-the-point and said something along the lines of 'it's asthma, you weirdo, why would I have been grossed out?' He'd felt so stupid in a way that made him want to dance around the room and sing something happy. He could've. He didn't, though, but it was just that knowledge that instead of laughing at him his friends would just get up and join him.</p><p>The second: Bill likes Beverly. Undeniably so in a way that he didn't even have to outright say it. Eddie just sort of knew, knew everything going on in the seemingly secretive teen's head. Bev had gone home, her dad needed her home before a certain time to cook him dinner or something, she'd seemed reluctant to go but not as reluctant as Bill was to let her go. And that was when Eddie picked up on it nearly instantly. He'd then had quite an awkward conversation with his friend, and he'd learned things that he definitely didn't know before. Most of these were major setbacks to Bill's crush. Beverly had a boyfriend, a very sweet, very good to her boyfriend. His name was Ben Hanscom and apparently he was the root of all Bill's problems in life because Bill had yet to say one nice thing about the guy.</p><p>Truth be told, Eddie didn't really know whether to smirk and say 'Bevvie, you sly dog' or pout, pat Bill's back and say 'Oh, you poor thing.' It might've been an easy decision if both factors of the equation weren't some of Eddie's (newly) best friends, both equally deserving of what made them happy but only one of them actually happy. Jesus Christ, love triangles were complicated.</p><p>And wow, the third thing. The third thing... well... Bill had the right idea and sort of the wrong one. This had been discovered in a very awkward conversation.</p><p>"Ah-Are you and R-Richie going out?"</p><p>There it was, the kicker. God, Eddie nearly choked on air and had a second embarrassingly gruesome asthma attack right then and there, he looked at Bill with such shock, shooting up from his place laying down comfortably on the floor. He looked offended, betrayed, maybe, though anyone who could have even a glimpse inside Eddie's head would know that expression wasn't any of those things. He felt exposed.</p><p>"The fuck kind of question is that?" He'd all but squeaked, Bill went bright red, and on top of Eddie's very obvious flush the two looked like a pair of ripened tomatoes. Bill shook his head like that was some sort of backspace button, like it would make Eddie just forget the very assumption-based, very presumptuous, very forward and out there question. But he didn't forget. He just sat there blushing wildly and looking almost horrified at Bill, who looked so guilty that it made Eddie want to throw up.</p><p>"S-s-s-sss— fuck!" And Bill couldn't even fucking explain himself. Amazing.</p><p>"Jesus Christ, Bill, fucking write it down or something." Eddie suggested hurriedly, suddenly so desperate for some sort of adequate explanation that said that maybe it was a slip of the tongue, a bad joke, had come out very wrong, anything but what it very obviously meant. Bill flipped him off, gathered his breath and started speaking, Eddie braced himself for the insulting sentences that would no doubt be a massive blow to his confidence around Richie.</p><p>"I j-just mean that you two act k-k-kinda... you know..." It was remarkable how clear his words were, how deliberate, that only ever really happened when he meant what he was saying. Bill's eyes begged Eddie to know what he meant so that he wouldn't have to actually say anything, admitting to thinking the two were in love for real was the last thing he wanted to do. Bill Denbrough did value his life, after all.</p><p>"No. I don't know, Bill. What are you saying, we act like queers?" Bill practically bit back a snippy 'you said it, not me', the words lingered on his tongue but Eddie was well and truly terrifying when mad and Bill didn't want to contribute to the infuriated gremlin's anger any more than he already had. "That's exactly what you're fucking saying, god! Asshole!" But for some reason he never denied it.</p><p>"It's n-not a buh-buh-bad thing!" Bill protested quickly, trying to let some reassurance bleed through into the angry, accusing, confusing atmosphere.</p><p>"No? Why do you look so embarrassed then?" And now coherent thoughts were a luxury, Eddie's mind had shut down into emergency mode, last resort, one step away from pressing the self destruct button. Deny, deny, deny, come on. It's easy, right? Easy! Bill shrugged helplessly, clearly at a loss for words, but Eddie wouldn't take that. Of course he wouldn't, little shit. He just kept pressing and pressing, getting desperate to know why Bill thought the things he did. "No, really, Bill. Enlighten me."</p><p>"I-I don't..." not knowing was futile, Eddie was nothing if not stubborn. "He juh-just looks a-a-at you like y-you're the best thing that h-he's ever suh-suh-seen."</p><p>Fuck if that didn't make Eddie's heart soar, Bill was an awful liar so there was no way he didn't mean it. Bill was also the most socially oblivious person Eddie knew (which wasn't really saying anything, Eddie knew only about a dozen people, he only liked about half of them) so if he could see it then... god, he was grinning like an idiot.</p><p>"Really?" The stuttering teen, clearly done with talking for a few minutes, taking a breather just nodded earnestly. Too worn down from Eddie's screeching to lie, he hoped. Eddie smiled, no point to holding back his obvious elation was.</p><p>"You're... h-h-happy?" One, maybe two second of pondering, then- "Oh god..." And then Eddie turning a dramatic shade of red, and then Bill smirking and wiggling his eyebrows, and then Bill poking Eddie's side, and then Eddie squealing 'I'm not happy! Not like that, perv, stop!' "You sh-sure?"</p><p>"Bill." No teasing. Deny, deny, deny. "Stop. I don't like Richie." Serious voice, cold eyes, somber expression. Come on, Bill, do the same. Come on, Bill, make me feel safe.</p><p>"Right." God, try to be more convincing than that.</p><p>"For real?"</p><p>They'd sat in silence after that, after a brief and utterly unconvincing nod from Bill they just looked anywhere but at each other, at the floor, at their hands, at the ceiling, even at the inside of their eyelids (Eddie had found it much easier to not look at Bill is his eyes were closed, fuck looking not psychotic).</p><p>It took a ton of self control (and when I say a ton...) to not ask Bill more, make the poor boy speak until he couldn't, make him spill every detail that he could possibly have on why he assumed the things he did, and he almost lost it completely and screamed in the guy's face— the only thing holding him back from that was the cloying notion that Bill didn't even want him there in the first place and Eddie screaming in his face about Richie for a second time would just push him over the edge, make Bill want to kick him out and force him to walk back home with the knowledge that he was annoying and loud to the point of being thrown out by one of his only friends.</p><p>Eddie chewed his lip nervously, looking at the clock and making silent promises to himself. Alright, he thought confidently, if he doesn't say something in... two minutes then I'm heading out. That's final.</p><p>The seconds had the viscosity of molasses, just barely creeping by, a snail could've passed the seconds easily with plenty of time to turn around and laugh. Every little, high pitched, imaginary laugh coming from the imaginary snail was a time that Eddie felt his hands grow clammy with sweat, his forehead heat up like he was running a nasty fever, a time that he glanced at the clock to see if any time was even passing at all.</p><p>A sort of pain swelled on the top of his head where Richie had pressed his lips upon his brief departure, not one that suggested a brain tumor (though that would be a flawless excuse for why he had to leave) but one that made his heart feel like it was empty and shriveling away slowly.</p><p>6:08</p><p>Fuck, ok, just... make up a lie about mom. You don't have to be home for like, an hour and a half but he doesn't know that. He doesn't, ok? Just say something.</p><p>"I'm gonna head home," voice strong, you got this, "I don't want to worry my mom. Besides, I promised her I'd help with dinner tonight."</p><p>"Oh, o-ok. Buh-bye." Bill said quietly, waving his friend off as he couldn't get out the bedroom door (the door to freedom) fast enough.</p><p>Eddie offered a weak smile, much like the ones he'd essentially been offering since The Big Question was thrown into the thick air between them. His thoughts leaked out his ears and became a tornado around his head, the confusing words were literally a visible whirlwind of jumbled up letters that made no sense, repeating some basic ideas that needed to just fuck off already!</p><p>Bill can see it from a fucking mile away, and he's not even there for the best of it. Why the fuck is keeping Richie from getting wise? He's so dumb. So fucking dumb. And so am I! I'm dumb too! So fucking dumb! I'm the one that's in love with the dumbass that I have to call my best friend. Are we best friends? I don't know jack-fucking-shit about him.</p><p>"Not jack shit!" An old lady glanced at him oddly from behind her well cared for roses. A sheepish smile and apology, and back to the tornado.</p><p>I know... a lot of things but he's a complex guy! I'm barely brushing the surface. And now... well I don't know if he knows too much about me either, I mean, he used to know everything. And then he kissed me. Idiot! Then he opened up this whole door that led to an entire pocket of me that I didn't know I even had! It would've stayed completely untouched if he hadn't kissed me, that motherfucker. God fucking damnit! I could never have discovered that part of myself! Maybe Richie would know everything about me then!! What the fuck!</p><p>"What the fuck!" But this time no one heard, leaving him overwhelmingly alone with no one to apologize to, and for some reason he always needed someone to apologize to... he had so much to apologize for.</p><p>He knows what I want him to know, I know what he wants me to know. That's not how the best of best friends should work at all, is it? God, maybe we're just glorified acquaintances at this fucking point. I don't even know why he left me for three years.</p><p>"Three fucking years." He muttered hotly under his breath as he tiptoed into the front door. Every night he came home from something was a mission of stealth, it was a 'cross the hall, up the stairs, no talking needed' kind of endeavor. Something white and quickly scrawled caught his eye in the kitchen and put a buffer in his routinely safe journey up to the relative safety of his room.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie-bear, </p><p>I hope you have fun at Bill's, call when you get home to let me know that you're safe, I have my book club tonight at Andrea's. I'll be home for dinner so would you mind getting a head start and cooking the green beans? I have chicken in the crockpot. </p><p>I love you, sweetie! Remember not to answer the door for anyone and please be careful around the stove, if you burn yourself the cream is in my first aid drawer by the sink.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie shook his head and held his stomach out of a force of habit, how could such a monstrous woman sound so sweet and caring over the written word? It made his stomach churn with guilt, he had no reason to resent her when she could act like this too.</p><p>He had better call Richie to pass the time, inform him of the ridiculous scandal at Bill's and have a good laugh to flood the tornado of intrusive thoughts and get rid of it (temporarily, the tornado was never really gone). Then he could get started on dinner and be all ready by the time his mother was home.</p><p>The phone rang a good number of times before someone picked up, a little thing that Eddie had forgotten about the Toziers, he'd sat through many arguments (sometimes playful, sometimes hostile; depended on the day, really) over who would get the phone. It was almost always Maggie.</p><p>"Hello! Maggie Tozier speaking!" Eddie chuckled at the familiarity of her fake-nice phone voice. It was something that he'd kind of forgotten over the years.</p><p>"Hi, Mrs. Tozier, it's Eddie." He said, receiving a genuinely nice 'Eddie! Darling, how are you?' in return. "I'm good! May I talk to Richie please?" He heard the crisp sound on the other end turn blanketed and muffled as she put a hand over the phone to yell for her son.</p><p>"Richard! Eddie's on the phone for you! And for goodness sake, turn down your music!" The last sentence came out as more of a shriek than a yell. Eddie bit the inside of his lip to hide a smile that no one could see anyway, he'd heard the exact same words spoken the exact same way around a million times. Maggie was a second mom to him.</p><p>"Hey-a, Eds. What can I do ya for?" Came the smiling (maybe not smiling, his voice was thick, a little weaker than his usual blaring proclamations).</p><p>"Hi, Richie. I was just calling to tell you 'bout the craziest shit Bill said today while I was at his house."</p><p>"You guys were hanging out without me? God, I'm hurt." Richie announced, his voice almost back to normal, but even then it was clear that he wasn't exactly kidding.</p><p>"I was gonna give you a break from me before you continued to babysit me." Only half-joking, Richie and Eddie's friendship had a lot of awkward half-jokes.</p><p>"Stop with that, I love hanging out with you. But ok, anyway, Bill says a lot of crazy shit, what is it this time?"</p><p>"He asked if we were... going together. Can you fucking believe that? Poor guy's finally lost it!" He laughed, an indirect invitation— no, plea— for Richie to laugh along, to say it was preposterous, to maybe shit talk Bill a little. God, anything but what he actually did.</p><p>"Hm." And then what followed was the most pathetic laugh Eddie had ever heard come out of a person. The sound, so gloriously fake and pained, made Eddie want to curl up in a ball and die. It was funny, Richard, laugh! Haha! Jokes! "Yeah, Bill's finally lost his shit, huh?" No energy behind the tease at all, more of a question that implored not to be answered.</p><p>"Yep..." Eddie rocked on his heels and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down like he had been doing all day as the result of overthinking, overthinking, and overthinking some more.</p><p>The line hung staticky and empty, yearning to be filled with happy voices (or any voices at all for that matter) but not getting the privilege of having its yearnings fulfilled. He wasn't sure who hung up, just that it was blurry and wordless and left so many unanswered questions, washing away the old tornado.</p><p>Making way for a new one, bigger, more destructive.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 10- Starry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No one needed to know.</p><p>So just add that to the long list of shit Eddie was keeping from Richie at all costs. As he sat in his bed, overwhelmed, barely breathing, sobbing harder than most people physically could, he grew more helpless with the confirmation (from himself) that he'd never tell anyone about his nightmares. See, Richie didn't need to know. He could— to be honest, it would be a whole lot easier if he did— but how was Eddie supposed to just burden him with that? Because if Richie knew then Eddie would expect him to make it better. What if he couldn't do that? What if no one could?</p><p>That was the thought that sent Eddie from a minor hysteria to one that would really, really concern anyone that walked in. Even the most shallow of breaths became a luxury, the inhaler didn't do shit anymore. He put his finger over the cold metal button and that feeling alone was usually enough to ease his breathing, but he pushed down over and over, the acidic taste coated Eddie's throat, everything happened as it should. Except for the one thing that needed to happen. Eddie still couldn't breathe. The tornado was slowly becoming a tight coil around Eddie's head, all the jumbled letters (miraculously) forming coherent sentences around him but becoming so tight around his head that it was suffocating, he didn't know how he was still conscious.</p><p>Breathe, Eddie, breathe.</p><p>The monsters screamed too loud, nothing could block them out, not Eddie clutching over his ears desperately and slamming his head against his knees, not him shaking his head madly, scarily fast and meaningful, nothing shook the screams. And he still couldn't breathe.</p><p>Breathe, Eddie, breathe.</p><p>Nothing was working. Was this how it ended? Him being stupid and pathetic and scared (so fucking scared) of everything and anything? He felt his head grow heavier than the rest of his body. He needed to lie down. He'd let the tears stream silently, and although he couldn't breathe, he'd just lie down. Close his eyes for a little wh—</p><p>"Eds! Oh my god!" He felt cold hands turn him onto his back and shake him, his eyelids were too heavy to lift, the weight of the tornado's jumbled up letters had settled on them, weighing them down. Down, down, down. "Eddie, come on, man..." The voice— Richie, no doubt— grew desperate, he pulled the frail, limp Eddie into his arms and held him there, repeating pleas of him to just please wake up, Eds, come on.</p><p>There was no dramatic spluttering awake like in the movies, no moment where everything got better and everyone knew that they were ok. It happened, yeah, but not like that. It started with his throat clearing up, his breath coming in thick, shallow heaves, then he found it in him to open his eyes, this jump-started something in Richie and he hugged Eddie more lovingly than he'd ever felt himself hug anyone.</p><p>"Eddie, you scared me." Nothing but relief. No scolding, no annoyance, no glee, just the purest relief that his friend was alive and could continue to be alive for another night. "If I had come any later... god..." This was where his voice became choked and sad, Eddie's breathing had eased up and become relatively normal now. He looked up.</p><p>"I'm ok, buddy, don't worry." He croaked.</p><p>Richie hugged him tighter, it was obvious that he wasn't letting go any time soon.</p><p>"Eds, you're supposed to tell me if you're having nightmares... I thought they stopped years ago." Richie's broken voice caused Eddie's broken heart. He was the reason Richie was so terrified, he was the reason Richie was crying, he was nothing but a burden. "I would've stayed the night if I had known, why didn't you say anything?"</p><p>"I didn't want to annoy you." Eddie's voice was so small, so sad, but Richie just scoffed.</p><p>"You could never annoy me, Eds. You know that." Cue a pause where all Eddie wanted Richie to do was say he didn't have to answer that. He really didn't want to answer that. Richie and Eddie alike didn't want Eddie to answer that question, but for different reasons. Eddie didn't want to answer it for very obvious reasons, because if he answered truthfully he'd seem sad and stupid and that wasn't what he wanted at all. Richie didn't want Eddie to answer because if Eddie answered truthfully (and it was two in the morning, lies don't exist after midnight) then he'd feel like he wasn't doing a good job of being his best friend. "You do know that, right?"</p><p>"Right."</p><p>"Babe, Eddie, that's bullshit. You think you annoy me, don't you?" If his guard had down just a minuscule amount more, he would've cracked. Being called babe by none other than Richie Tozier made him weak. Afraid of breaking his streak of closing everyone off by stupid words, Eddie shrugged. What else could he do? It wasn't a definitive no (if 'no' was a lie, then a definitive no was a luxury that he was rarely blessed with). It wasn't a definitive yes either, because the truth was much harder to admit than he felt was ideal. God, Richie looked like he might cry. "You don't annoy me, Eds, what the fuck? You know I love you."</p><p>"Stop saying that because you'll never fucking mean it the way I want you to." Eddie snapped, sending the tornado into action again, this time around both of him and Richie's heads, trapping them together. He was always trapped, wasn't he?</p><p>"What?" Richie's voice sounded so embarrassed, so small, so confused. Eddie wanted to throw up. Why on earth did he say that? What went through his mind (in the split second of thought before his words came tumbling out) that made him say that? What lie could he make up that could fix that and make it seem like he just hadn't confessed his love, lost his filter and spewed his feelings all over the place?</p><p>"What?" Eddie mirrored Richie, taking the aged tactic of being a toddler-esque asshole until the other felt too discombobulated by endless questions with no answers that they just dropped it. Boy did Eddie hope that Richie just dropped it.</p><p>"What does that mean, how did you want me to mean it?" There was no way out of this one, Richie was backing him into a corner. A glass corner with an endless stream of people that gathered on the other side. They were just staring at him while he was in his most destroying sense of helplessness. They were just sitting back and enjoying the show as Eddie was on the other side of the glass with Richie feeling like his life was over. It had to be, right?</p><p>Oh, nothing, I just wanted you to mean it in a way that meant we could kiss for real. And hold hands. And say I love you like married couples say I love you. Like I said, it's nothing.</p><p>"What?" He asked again, fighting harder than he ever had to keep his voice steady, to cut himself off before he could let the tornado do its work and let him say whatever he thought, like some sort of dysfunctional filter. The filter was about as good as telling one half of an inseparable pair of best friends a secret and expecting the other not to know. It just didn't work like that. His filter was slipping between his fingers, maybe if he'd played baseball with all the other boys instead of staying home and painting his Ma's nails he'd know how to catch and he'd be able to grasp his falling filter before it slipped and ruined his life.</p><p>"Wh— Eds, are you feeling ok?"</p><p>Clearly fucking not. God, Rich, I knew you were dumb but not like this.</p><p>"Yes. Fine." A lie, a blatant lie. "Let's... sneak out. And go somewhere." Anything to change the subject, even if it meant facing the dark. He had a simple tactic: don't answer incriminating questions, avoid sensitive topics, catch Richie off guard. The way he was scheming one would think he was being interrogated by the police.</p><p>"Woah. Uh— well. That took a turn." It was as if Richie was narrating Eddie's mind. "Wanna go to my roof?" Eddie's mouth went dry, he hadn't been on Richie's roof since</p><p>flowers bloomed around them in the middle of winter, heat on a freezing day; the sun was caught between them, a blossoming light that cast an angelic halo around the two. The watercolor ocean above theme spun like a whirlpool, Richie and Eddie clutched onto each other. Eight seconds felt like eternity as both their hearts spun into the sunrise and flew back, somewhere in between them, confused but happy. So happy.</p><p>"Earth to Eduardo?" Richie waved his hand in front of Eddie's face, smacking him back into reality, he fell hard. Like he'd just catapulted through an ice layer on an ocean and gotten stuck below in the freezing water. He always found himself stuck on the other side of things with Richie whether he liked it or not.</p><p>"Hi, I'm here." He said nearly breathlessly, as if Richie couldn't see him sitting right there in his arms the whole time. "Yeah. Let's... go." He was definitely going to regret it, it'd be a miracle if he managed the night without spilling the beans. Cracking the glass and falling, falling, falling through. Gasping up for air above the ice. Breaking through the tornado and running away.</p><p>It all sounded so good, it would be such a relief, but the steps on the way to the relief— that he so, so desperately needed— were near impossible to even fathom. To get out the words 'Richie, I love love you.' or even just 'like-like' as if they were in kindergarten again seemed like a fantasy and only a fantasy. He'd never have the courage to even attempt to fulfill it, and that would have to be ok, if he brought himself down over the fact that he was too weak to ruin him and Richie's friendship then he'd never escape.</p><p>Eddie chewed his lip and tried to fight off the tornado all the way to Richie's house, relying solely on his muscle memory and previous navigation to the ramshackle house to guide him there, as his eyes were practically glued shut, trying not to see the shadows before it was too late and the monsters stole him away again. At some point he must've grabbed Richie's arm and held tight to it (no fighting back or pulling away on Richie's part?) because when his eyes were open again he was pressed firmly against Richie's side with no recollection of when they got so close. His face went warm, but it was far too dim to be noticed by the taller of the two.</p><p>Don't give in to the temptation, he won't like you like that, I promise. You'll just mess things up between you two, do you really want that? Is that really what you're ok with? If the friendship is ruined it will all be because of you. You! You're really saying you'd be able to live with yourself if he was disgusted by you and you two never spoke again? Are you stupid? It's like you want everyone to hate you.</p><p>His thoughts grew louder and louder, not stopping or slowing down to take a breath or let Eddie hear sweet silence. No silence. Just endless screaming and screaming and screaming and not stopping. Eddie felt about ready to cry, he took Richie's hand briefly to hoist himself up onto the roof but after that he let go like Richie was infected or something. He didn't want Richie to feel how shaky he was.</p><p>"Man, it's been a while since we were up here, huh?" For lack of a better word, Eddie felt starry. He felt like a star. Not in the sense that he was popular, famous or even well-liked, but he felt warm. He felt like he was glowing with no way of stopping it, their location dredged up memories that made his stomach clench and heart flutter in the best way possible. The angle of the moon light reflected off of Richie's face just right in a way that made the memory glow, his eyes look blank and glassy like he was stuck in a memory and not all there, his hair shine like it had the night that they—</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 11- Cleanup Crew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie's lips were still buzzing as he walked to school with Bill. It was like the feeling you got when you put too much sunscreen chapstick on, like a presence there but not enough to notice without thinking about the feeling. It was very strange, unsettling almost, a sense of deja vu had hit him like a truck, he'd woken up in his bed with a sleeping Trashmouth on the floor, he'd felt the same small buzz on his lips around that time three years ago.</p><p>"W-where's Richie?" Bill asked suddenly, Eddie went bright red and bit his tongue to stop himself from going all defensive.</p><p>"I... do not have a clue. Why?" Why would I know where Richie is? He has other friends, I'm not the only one he hangs out with. That was what Eddie wanted to say, but Bill had asked an innocent enough question and a response as suspicious as that would bring up millions more not so innocent, not so easily avoided questions.</p><p>"I duh-duh-don't know... he's buh-been walking with us eh-eh-everyday since h-he got here." He mumbled, as if he knew Eddie's thoughts and was sort of sorry he asked. "Just a-asking."</p><p>"Right, well, you didn't need to ask because he has other friends, you know, I'm not the only fucking person he knows. Stan's always here, too. Where's he, huh?" So much for staying strong. God, Eddie, how hard is it to act normal for one day?</p><p>"Jeez, duh-defensive much?" Bill scoffed awkwardly, looking from Eddie's red face down to the pavement he trudged along to get to school. "Did s-s-something happen buh-between you two?" Eddie had to squint to keep his eyes from widening and giving away his surprised expression. Or was it startled? Nervous? Mortified at the truth about him getting out to one of the only people that tolerates him? Maybe a mixture of all of them.</p><p>"We just..." Nope. Eddie, shut your trap. "Got in a fight."</p><p> </p><p>"Again?" Oh. Fuck. Just smile and nod. And smile. And nod.</p><p> </p><p>"He'll get over it, neither of us end up apologizing in the end, that's how our fights usually go. We kind of just get sick of not having the other around and start hanging out like normal, I wouldn't be too worried." Except the last time they fought... well... yeah. Fought. Richie had moved away not even a week later. Jesus fucking christ, Edward, if you want out of the hole you have to put down the shovel.</p><p> </p><p>"Ruh-Right." Bill drew out the 'I' sound so that his confirmation sounded infuriatingly sarcastic. "Hey, uh, th-there's a puh-puh-party happening tonight at Mike H-Hanlon's farm. You wanna come?"</p><p> </p><p>The words party and Eddie never really went together well, the small teen found loud music, shitty alcoholic beverages and sweaty people dancing about the least enjoyable thing ever. But Bill had asked him. And he couldn't lean on Richie for everything, maybe he'd make new friends? The thought almost seemed impossible, utterly unfathomable. Eddie? New friends? Never. Which was why he responded with a firm:</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, why not?" Eddie had never wanted his ability to speak overall to be taken away from him and destroyed so bad. The word 'no' should not have been as hard to say as it was, but alas, Eddie felt like it was the hardest thing he could've said in that moment. Or ever.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie, do you like... dudes?</p><p> </p><p>He'd taken so long to say no, to lie like that to his friend, to bring himself to say it...</p><p> </p><p>|—|—|—|—|—|</p><p> </p><p>The lights leaked through Eddie's pupils and fed into the already pounding headache that Eddie had. There weren't even that many lights, just a couple dumb kids waving around flashlights to create strobes, but it was still enough to make Eddie want to faint. Bill had already left him, fuck that, he'd gone to talk to Stan and the host, the man, the myth, the legend: Mike Hanlon. Eddie had never met the guy before, but he was known throughout the small town as the homeschooled delivery kid. Eddie pictured a douchey, tall guy with sharp features and a ton of muscles and no time to be talking to scrawny losers like Eddie. When a short, soft, sweet teenager walked up to him with a heart-melting smile and a cup of extremely un-spiked-looking punch in his hand there was no connection between the two. Literally none. It took Eddie three separate introductions to the guy to have it click in his mind that this sweetheart was the douche-bag frat boy that he'd been imagining and that he'd been so terrified to finally meet.</p><p> </p><p>"Heya, Eddie, is it?" Eddie nodded, too stunned for words, his voice was so soft and made the smaller of the two just want to curl up in Mike's arms. Not even in a romantic way, either, he was just that likeable. "Cool! I'm Mike, if you want to you can totally hang with me for the night, I'm friends with Bill and Stan." It was official, Eddie would trust this guy with his life.</p><p> </p><p>"Ok!" Eddie grinned with no hesitation, he followed Mike to his barn where Stan and Bill and a couple others were gathered— a much more manageable crowd full of calm-enough people, this was really all he could ask of a raging high school party... yet he still found himself scouring the room desperately for just a glimpse of a certain bespectacled teen. "Big Bill, is Richie here?" He asked, trying his hardest to sound nonchalant and carefree.</p><p> </p><p>"H-haven't seen him. Aren't you fightin'?" There was a mostly unnoticeable lilt to his words, but Eddie still scoffed. Mike was a nice guy, but of course someone had brought alcohol.</p><p> </p><p>"Right. Yes. I mean, kind of? Not really anymore, I just want to talk to him." Eddie lied uncomfortably, just then remembering all the details of their conversation that morning.</p><p> </p><p>"Mikey!" Bill called loudly, becoming more obviously drunk, which was alright as long as he didn't go and do anything stupid, Eddie would never hear the end of it from his mom if he brought Bill to his house drunk. "Is Dick Tozier here?" No stutter, so apparently that only happened when he was sober. Mike looked away from his passionate conversation with Stan about birds— Eddie couldn't hear anything they were saying, but Stan only ever looked that happy when talking about his beloved winged rats. Either it was that or he just really liked Mike. Eddie smirked to himself at that. Mike nodded and gestured toward the stables.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, there Richie was with Beverly, Beverly's boyfriend Ben and a black-haired girl Eddie knew to be Betty Ripsom. They were all smoking except for Ben, who was sitting in Bev's arms with a blissful smile on his face. Fuck Bill, those two made a great couple.</p><p> </p><p>"Eds!" Richie announced loudly, clearly deciding not to acknowledge their late-night-rendezvous for fear of... something bad. Eddie wasn't exactly sure. "Glad you could make it, good lad." He added in what only close friends could translate into an offensively inaccurate British accent. "Want a cancer stick?" He held an unlit cigarette out to Eddie with the full knowledge that he'd decline disgustedly, but it was always fun to put on an act.</p><p> </p><p>"Of course, shame I don't have my inhaler," he smirked, an obvious lie, Eddie always had his inhaler, "but yes, you know I actually read an article that those things are healthier than some types of vegetable, can't remember which."</p><p> </p><p>"Probably because those types of vegetables don't exist, don't be a weirdo Eddie." Beverly called loudly with a smile, everyone seemed to have a fun amount of alcohol in their system but maybe it was just the intoxicating atmosphere of a real party. The slow, pulsing beat of drums from Mike's stereo (maybe multiple stereos, this party was pretty real) thrummed in Eddie's ears, mixed with the sweet sounds of laughter at Beverly Marsh's astute comment. Eddie couldn't remember why he didn't want to come to this party.</p><p> </p><p>"Nah, I think the little cutie's onto something." Richie winked at Eddie and ruffled his hair, Eddie looked way different in the dim light of a party, his cheeks were flushed from all the walking around and talking to different people, he had an almost permanent smile on his face out there by everyone else's matched expression, his eyes twinkled in a way they never usually did. He seemed to have forgotten about everything that was wrong with him, and here he was, floating among the hay bales and sconce lights and crisp night air and echoing laughs. It was like this party was a different universe entirely and if he stayed here long enough, where no one seemed to have a single care, he'd never have to go back. "You look extra cute tonight, my love."</p><p> </p><p>With that Richie leaned over and kissed Eddie's head. Eddie blushed embarrassingly crimson, no one seemed to particularly mind. Beverly seemed awfully accustomed to their affections towards each other on a regular basis despite having known the two around the other one for all of ten minutes. Ben was too entranced by the sheer presence of his girlfriend to notice anything happening around him, Betty just smiled at the two. God, was this what it was like to like to live with no judgement? No weird, uncomfortable glances burning Eddie's skin whenever he blushed? It felt nice, he thought, maybe he could just stay for a while longer...</p><p> </p><p>"Shut up, you two, don't make me plan the wedding." Beverly grinned, Richie and Eddie subconsciously jumped apart, apparently— and sadly— used to the teasing that came with their friendship, full of nothing but love for the other. They separated before Beverly's comment even registered, but it made no difference.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, love, don't do that, wrong Kaspbrak!" Richie said as if the sheer idea of marrying Eddie repulsed him, it was an act but stung like a bandaid being taken off painfully slow all the same. "Well, I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you guys that I'm engaged to the lovely Sonia Kaspbrak."</p><p> </p><p>This was what got them, Betty frowned and cocked her head to the side, Beverly laughed nervously like she thought she knew who the fuck that was, Ben mimicked her for lack of any other reasonable action.</p><p> </p><p>"Is that... Eddie's mom?" Bev finally asked, an innocently joking question with a disconcerting response.</p><p> </p><p>"What? Where?" Eddie sat up straight, his first instinct to snatch Richie's cigarette and stomp it out (that was exactly what he did, fuck Richie's angry protests), and swiveled his head around fervently. Only then did he realize that Beverly was asking that in response to Richie's idiotic statement. Holy fuck, was he embarrassed. "Oh..." He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck, then anxiously eyed the crumpled, blackened cigarette on the floor. "Sorry, Rich."</p><p> </p><p>"It's fine." Richie sighed reluctantly, knowing all too well of Eddie's disturbingly fearful relationship with his mom.</p><p> </p><p>"What was that, you ok, Eddie?" Beverly seemed concerned, she was in no way laughing or rolling her eyes or mocking him, that eased the brunette's racing mind just a little. Feeling vulnerable and embarrassed at his quick, instinctive reaction at the mere thought of his mother being there Eddie nodded and reached for someone that wasn't there. His hand fell into the middle of the hay bale him and Richie shared, now feeling cold and empty. The warm glow radiating from the dim light in the stables now felt ominous and the monsters crept into Eddie's fucked up peripheral vision.</p><p> </p><p>"Richie, can I talk to you for a sec?" He asked in a so-quiet-it's-sad kind of voice. Richie nodded wordlessly and they walked into the field behind the stables, outside the view of the partying high schoolers. They were having so much fun.</p><p> </p><p>He didn't need to talk, all Richie needed was a small step shrinking the gap between him and Eddie to know that something was up, and he wasn't going to make Eddie talk. Eddie practically collapsed in Richie's arms and stayed there, silently and softly crying to himself, his small shallow breaths coming in little choked spurts.</p><p> </p><p>"Shh, Eddie, baby, you're ok. She's not here. She's at home." He whispered into the warm bubble of air surrounding their embrace. The world could've been crumbling around them and Richie wouldn't stop holding Eddie like it was the thing he was put on earth to do. "You're ok, I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you." Eddie said a million and one words with his mouth shut, utterly transparent in Richie's eyes, wordless explanations to why he needed to be held and comforted all the time and Richie just understood him with no questions asked. Neither of them could be more in love with the other if they tried. Not if they were paid a hundred thousand dollars.</p><p> </p><p>The party fell slowly asleep at the edge of their own world, music died down, cars pulled out of the long, dirt driveway, lights shut off and suddenly it was eerily quiet.</p><p> </p><p>"Eds, you ready to go back in? If you're not then we can just go get something to eat from the gas station just a bit away from here? Whatever you want I'm good with." He was so sweet, Eddie wanted to fucking cry.</p><p> </p><p>"We'll go back in. Help Mike clean up." Eddie decided, smiling at the relief of Richie's sigh as he loosened his grip. They walked back to the barn to find only five other people remaining. Bill and Stan were picking up precariously tossed pizza off the floor and walls, Beverly helped Mike pick up cups, Ben took dishes into the house and put them in the sink to be done later.</p><p> </p><p>"Need any help?" The smile that each teen cracked at the crack in the silence was heartwarming, Richie's blaring voice bringing people to grins as it so often did.</p><p> </p><p>"You stayed! Awesome!" Mike looked so unbelievably pleased with the presence of the two additional teens and something felt right among them, like somehow they knew each other separately and all it took was staying after the party was over to figure that out.</p><p> </p><p>Once the barn and house were sufficiently clean, enough so that Mike's grandpa wouldn't have his guts for garters, the seven of them agreed to stay just a little longer. Mike put a movie on in the living room but the staticky dialogue and music was drowned out by the genuine laughter and talking that lingered with the new friends. They talked like they'd know each other all their lives.</p><p> </p><p>The seven of them built a castle that night, one that rose from the rubble of discarded Solo Cups and empty, greased pizza boxes.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 12- Cloud Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Black mist faded out from the corners revealing sixteen small flames, they danced around Eddie's face as he smiled. He was red as ever, not just from the candles. As someone who never got much attention unless it was because of his health, this was unusual. Everyone gathered because they wanted to be, everyone chipping in to make it more special (not even for themselves), everyone taking the focus off of themselves and giving it to Eddie willingly. He'd never had a birthday party before, well, not with more than four people. Certainly not with people that weren't even related to him therefore legally obliged to be at said event.</p><p>Richie shook the Polaroid some more and grinned at the outcome as the remaining black mist cast contrast and shadows over each face.</p><p>"Here y'are, lovely." He announced and handed the picture back to Eddie. It was sadly unremarkable, what with Stan not even smiling, Eddie scowling at Richie, Mike with his eyes closed, mid-sigh of disapproval at Bill who was poking at Beverly's side to try to get her to take down her concrete wall of silent treatment (which had been built from the foundations of Bill making grossly Richie-level sexual jokes about what Beverly and Ben got up to in their spare time), Ben's red face was visible even in the dim light and he was staring at the floor with gritted teeth-- no doubt the result of one of Bill's jokes. Again, not one person was smiling or even acting remotely normal, but it pushed aside all others easily and took its place in Eddie's heart as his favorite picture ever. They'd need more group photos if every one of them was going to be as lively and full of character as the one that Richie's mom had quickly snapped with no warning, catching all of them in a candid moment.</p><p>"This is awesome!" Mike said and took the photo gently, holding it out in front of the crowd so that they could all see it clearly. No matter what they had been doing before, all their faces had melted into the same fond expression.</p><p>"I look weird, let's take it again." Stan had said despite his soft smile and twinkling eyes.</p><p>"No can, do Staniel the Maniel, we're on a tight schedule." Richie clapped twice and pulled a list out of his pocket, everyone simultaneously groaned. "Oops, sorry, wrong list, that's the one of new sex things I wanna try with Eddie's mom." And it was, for the sake of a disgusting joke Richie had actually written down a long, long list of obscenely sexual habits and it was titled, in big, bold, black pen, 'SEXY TIMES WITH SONIA!!!'. Eddie let out a shriek that was too feral to be human once Richie started reading off the items</p><p>(number one, we're gonna try BDSM for the first time, I'm actually quite excited for this one, in case you didn-)</p><p>and tackled him to the floor, ripping the list from his hands and actually retching once he caught sight of some of the more obscene features of Richie's well thought out list. Eddie muttered long, complex strings of curses and insults so unusual that anyone walking in without context would think Richie was being hexed.</p><p>"You motherfucking prick, you're so fucking gross, I'm going to fucking push you off a slide at a kid's playgroud so that the injury isn't extreme enough that I could be in legal danger, but it's still gonna FUCKING hurt, got it? And then I'm gonna jump off the slide after you and use you as a landing pad and hopefully knock the lust for fucking pedophilia out of you. You do realize that fucking my mom is illegal, right? The age of consent is 16 and you're still 15, you're practically a fucking child so if I hear you make one more joke about fucking my mom I'm taking you to court." He rambled furiously, still pinning Richie to the floor with one arm (in all fairness, this was an anomaly, Richie Tozier was in fucking stitches and couldn't get up if he wanted to) and crumpling up the god-forsaken list in the other. The remaining five members of The Losers Club (a name the seven of them had unanimously agreed on the first night they met, because, well, they were) were doubled over, whooping with laughter at Eddie's catlike motion to throw Richie to the floor.</p><p>Eddie eventually got tired and let Richie up with a final smack to the back of his head and a strangled, "I fucking hate you." as he sat back down at the table with dignity and poise, Richie was sobbing with laughter and took his place once more right next to Eddie. Uncommonly close for two straight guy friends, but no one was saying anything about it.</p><p>"Man, Eds, you're a hoot." Richie sighed, his grin hadn't faltered all night. "Ever considered trying out for football? I mean come on, you're, what, four-foot-five?"</p><p>"Five-foot-four, asswipe."</p><p>"And I'm pushing six feet and you took me down like that." He snapped his fingers in Eddie's face for emphasis.</p><p>"Fuck off." Eddie retorted and scooted his chair away from Richie's.</p><p>"I'm serious!" Richie laughed and moved his chair in sync with Eddie's essentially creating no distance between them. Eddie scowled.</p><p>"You're annoying. Why do I put up with you?"</p><p>"'Cause you love me."</p><p>"Well yeah, but I still don't think I should put up with you. What if I walked away right now?"</p><p>"I would cry."</p><p>"Fuck you."</p><p>"Get a room." Stanley hollered from the couch in Richie's living room, throwing a piece or two of popcorn at them and sending the seven of them (even Eddie... A little, anyway) into bouts of laughter yet again. Once they'd calmed down Richie grabbed a second list from his pocket and before he got the chance to even stand up and clear his throat Eddie had snatched the paper so he could skim over it and check for anything stupid, about his mother, or both. Eddie nodded assent and handed the list back to Richie, who bowed upon receiving Eddie's approval and kissed the small teen's hand, 'why thank you, milady' Richie had said in what was probably the worst British accent in the history of ever, definitely the most obnoxious, and Eddie had to bite down hard on the inside of his lip to stifle a laugh. This didn't go unnoticed by anyone, but they'd let it be an unspoken addition to Richie's ever growing ego. The list simply had 'presents' scrawled across it, underlined at least five times, in all caps.</p><p>Each present got Eddie a little choked up and he had to look up and blink a couple of times to stop things from getting really awkward and really, really sappy. Beverly and Mike had teamed up and used their saved up money to get Eddie a walkman and headphones, a definite result of a late night conversation he'd had with the two of them at Mike's farm on top of the hay bales. Eddie had never felt braver up there, he looked down and saw his feet. Yet they weren't touching the ground, he was practically suspended, he would've felt trapped if he hadn't felt the exact opposite.</p><p>(Mikey, could we listen to some music? We, uh, we don't have to, my mom just doesn't like me listening to music. She says that I could get exposed to the wrong stuff on the radio and some music is fine but that stuff rots my brain and-</p><p>Yeah, we can, Eddie.)</p><p>Beverly handed them to him with a wink and ruffled his hair.</p><p>"Jeez, thanks guys." He said with a choked laugh. Jesus, Eddie, it's just a present, don't lose your shit!</p><p>Secondly, Stan and Ben had both agreed that Eddie's selection of books was absolutely unacceptable, there was nothing good. No Alvin Schwartz, no Edgar Allen Poe, no horror at all, actually. His shelves were lined with nonfiction books about the human body and every possible thing that could go wrong with it, that and a select few cheesy realistic fiction novels about teens that discovered they were better off without friends. How sad was that? Eddie could've sworn he looked like a madman as he eagerly took the sizable stack of books from Ben's outstretched hands. He'd have to hide these (he'd have to hide all his presents, come to think of it) but it was so worth it. Maybe the monsters in these books and the monsters in his head could battle. Maybe the book monsters would win. Maybe they'd protect Eddie, keep his mind at bay, let him escape to a new reality where monsters seemed like fantasy creatures people read about for thrills. For someone who was so scared he was sure excited to get scared.</p><p>As it turned out, he would cry. Actually cry once he saw what Richie and Bill had saved up for. Fuck them.</p><p>Richie covered his eyes and excitedly led him outside, the cold air nipped at Eddie's soft skin and made him tremble upon impact but he warmed right up once Bill, Richie and the rest of the Losers yelled, "Surprise!"</p><p>It was rusty, it looked cheap and unsafe and if Eddie had even a tiny bit of disbelief in the effectiveness of tetanus shots he'd turn the gift away immediately and politely say he just couldn't accept it. But holy shit, it was perfect. The rusted baby blue, the worn leather seat and handlebars, the definitely last-minute-added bell that sort of just hung there, barely attached to the bike itself, it was the best thing Eddie had ever seen in his whole entire life. He felt just a second's warning before a tear finally made its way through, though he wiped it hastily and looked at Richie and Bill.</p><p>Bill shrugged and pointed to Richie. "Duh-don't look at me, man. It was this fuh-fucker's idea. I just helped him puh-pay." Eddie couldn't give less of a shit if he was paid to, he engulfed both of them in a tight hug, reveling in the feeling of them both chuckling and holding Eddie close.</p><p>"Guys, it's amazing, but..." And the shame sank in, boy did it sink in fast. Je-sus. He was sixteen, six-fucking-teen and couldn't even ride a bike. How stupid was that?</p><p>You may think you fit in, but at the end of the day you're still the same. Behind everyone else, small, weak, an utter nobody. Ever think they're PITYING you</p><p>(PITYING you... PITYING you...)</p><p>and that you'll never be like them? You know it, they know it, and they won't let you forget that. This wasn't a present, you naive idiot, this was a TAUNT. A TAUNT because they know. You got too comfortable and now they know, first they get you a bike and then they'll be finding you a BOYFR-</p><p>"...rry." Eddie snapped his head up, he was no longer enveloped in an embrace, Richie had pulled him aside and was crouching at Eddie's eye level.</p><p>"What was that?" Eddie asked listlessly, voice muffled by the tornado, eyes misty through the whirling letters and-</p><p>"I said, I know you can't ride a bike, I'll teach you. We'll get up early tomorrow, and I know a place that's perfect. Don't worry."</p><p>(PITYING you... PITYING you...)</p><p>"You don't have to, that's like, really nice and-"</p><p>(...first they get you a bike and then they'll be-)</p><p>"And nothing! I want to, it'll be fun, then you won't have to ride double on my bike anymore and we can get places twice as fast without the combined weight so we're unstoppable. Just think, I bike to yours and we can get the fuck out and go to an arcade or something in like, the middle of the night! It'll be awesome, dude!" Richie's smile was so genuine, so pleading, his words were so soft, it was like he was begging; he couldn't possibly be</p><p>(PITYING you... PITYING you...)</p><p>because that would be the end of Eddie.</p><p>"Right, thanks, Rich."</p><p>"Awesome, let's go, my little fun-sized quarterback." Richie hoisted Eddie up over his shoulder and sent them crashing back down to earth from whatever cloud-paradise Richie's words, his warm hands, his embrace, had landed them on.</p><p>"Fun-sized quarterback?! Way to make me fucking hate you again, what the fuck! Can you not last more than two minutes without making some asshole joke?"</p><p>And they were back. But that was fine too. Anywhere with Richie was a mini cloud-paradise in itself, where the tornado wasn't quite so suffocating.</p>
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